No matter how the hands reach out,
To heal the wounds, to cleanse the doubt,
The stains remain, the blood runs deep,
In darkness, silent sins will creep.
A thousand prayers, a thousand pleas,
Won't calm the storm or still the seas,
Good deeds bloom in fleeting light,
But shadows grow in endless night.
For every smile, a dagger hides,
For every truth, a thousand lies,
Beneath the mask of virtue's grace,
A reckoning waits, a twisted face.
The scales tip not with tender care,
But with the weight of what we bear,
The wrongs we thought could be undone,
Will burn beneath a vengeful sun.
You cannot bury what you sow,
The price is marked, the debt will grow,
No kind hand or soft heart's cry,
Will stop the tears the dead will dry.
For in the end, all debts are paid,
The cost of sins that won't evade,
Good deeds fall like whispered breath-
But evil tolls the bell of death.
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When Silence Wept
PoetryIn this collection of poetry, the veil is torn away, revealing the undercurrents of darkness that run through the human experience. These poems are raw and relentless, exploring the spaces where light fails to reach, and the truths we fear most come...
