Poetic Stories

"I had never expected this from you. Why did you lie to me if nothing was true?" I spoke my heart out shamelessly because today the limits were crossed. He knew exactly about my feelings and he still played with them. He mocked my emotions, my love, my respect for him. I don't have anything left for him anymore. I don't know where am I getting my anger from, but I cannot withstand this much insult.

"You don't build a future in a town you're passing through, Harry," she replied, her voice barely steady. "I'm not passing through." "You always are." Harry Styles was a man defined by the exit sign. Between the sold-out stadiums, the hazy recording studios, and a life lived through a tour bus window and private jet, he was a ghost in motion. He was the man who left; she was the one who stayed behind, rooted in the hills of Arezzo like the perennials in her garden, blooming in a cycle he never stayed long enough to see. . Exhausted by the glare of fame, Harry retreats to a quiet town on the outskirts of Arezzo, seeking refuge from the expectations that have defined his life. In a modest house with a serene, vibrant garden, he rediscovers stillness and simplicity, finding comfort in small routines and the quiet rhythm of daily life. But even in this hidden corner of Tuscany, human connection finds a way in, stirring curiosity, trust, and the gentle possibility of something more.

How can I let your voice slump into oblivion if it resembles the sound of the rustling leaves? This book is a reflection of my journey through the ebbs and flows of life-of repeatedly learning the essence of love, learning the pain of isolation, and finding myself again. Trigger Warning: This book contains themes that may be distressing to some readers, including mental illness, trauma, grief, self-harm, and emotional abuse. Reader discretion is advised. #1 in poembook [7-31-25] #1 in poemcollection [7-30-25] #1 in poems [9-05-25] #1 in thoughts [8-25-25] #1 in poetrycollection [12-25-25] Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the photos used in this book. All images were sourced from Pinterest and belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended. If any image belongs to you and you wish for it to be removed or properly credited, please contact me and I will take action immediately.

Some stories don't end - they linger, like April rain on quiet days. 𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 is a collection of moments that exist in the in-between - where beginnings feel uncertain, endings arrive softly, and emotions refuse to fade completely. Each poem captures fragments of connection, loss, growth, and quiet realization, unfolding like petals that never fully close. This is not a book of perfect endings. It is a book of almosts, echoes, and afterglow - of feelings that stay long after they should have left. Step gently into 𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚, where every page holds a piece of something once felt, and never entirely forgotten.

Mercy is easier when the world isn't starving. if survival demands cruelty everytime, then what actually survives? The world did not end with fire. It ended with petals that can pierce flesh. Power does not corrupt the heart, it merely removes the the curtains hiding it Even the purest flower drinks from graves beneath its soil. Do everything can be a miracle gifted by the nature? Or merely a curse? Hope is a candle that survives by teaching itself how to burn slowly. Let us ponder in a world where a garden does not ask permission before it devours the ruin beneath it. ----------------------------------------------------------------- [ IMPORTANT NOTICE: Some parts of this story is written in a poetic and philosophical style. Some dialogues, symbols, and meanings may not be immediately understood, as they are to be felt as much as they are read. The world within these pages speaks in silence, metaphors, and emotion. Interpretations may differ from person to person - and that is part of the story itself. Read slowly. The garden does not bloom for hurried eyes] ---------------------------------------------------------------- [Warning: This story contains violence, grief, and moments of human cruelty. Not all wounds in this world are made by monsters.] ----------------------------------------------------------------- Author's Note: This story was born from silence, ruin, and the strange beauty of survival. Thank you for stepping into the garden. -----------------------------------------------------------------

Hello my lovelies , So this is my first ever story so it might have some flaws but everything written is straight out of my soul and it might not have be one of the famous tropes but i wrote it as something i feel deep from the corr of my heart the story is a beautiful mix of dreams , past life lovers and reincarnation trope! ✨

Some people enter your life loudly. Others arrive like rain - quietly, slowly, and all at once. He had spent years learning how to live with absence. With silence. With the strange ache of wanting something he could never name. Then he met the girl in gray - a person who seemed less like someone living, and more like a memory the world refused to let go of. What begins as distance slowly turns into obsession, tenderness, and the terrifying realization that some people are capable of changing the architecture of your entire inner world. Told across eight emotionally intertwined episodes, *The Girl in Gray and the Boy Who Longed* is a quiet story about longing, loneliness, silence, and the things people fail to say when it matters most. A literary emotional drama about: missed moments rain-soaked memories invisible distances and the unbearable weight of feeling too much.

Another volume in my poetry sector. Subject to change. Or not. This volume will be like the others. Stories, short and with poetic tinge. Poetry, dark and abyssal. Tongue in cheek. But equally as bleak. A safe haven from AI and predictive. Cover created using NovelArt. If you plagiarize-thank you. You're only helping me to get known.

Do you know what a soul is? what is life? tough question isn't it? Ig everybody finds a unique answer to that question. I hope you find yours. This book is a fragment of mine.

Dear Life (we need to talk) is a collection of thoughts, memories, people, awkward conversations, late-night overthinking, and the strange loneliness of growing up. Some chapters are messy. Some are sarcastic. Some feel like diary entries written at 2 A.M. And maybe somewhere between these pages, you'll find pieces of yourself too.

This is the story of Aven, a 16 year old(or is he?) as he travels across the lands and meets a girl in his adventures to destroy the ruler's throne once and for all . Unfortunately the ruler isn't their only enemy

A collection of short stories that explore the realities surrounding human existence.

"Woh ek naye sheher mein sirf apne khwāb lekar aayi thi... thodi si umeedein, aur bahut kuch peeche chhod kar. Use laga tha ye sheher bas uski zindagi badlega... par dheere dheere, uske ehsaas bhi badalne lage. Kuch anjaani mulaqātein, kuch adhure jazbāt, aur kuch unplanned feelings... jo kab uski aadat banne lagi, use khud bhi pata nahi chala. Ye Kahani mohabbat ki zaroor hai... par usse pehle, khud ko khudse milne ki hai."

Raiden is in S4, and in all the other years, the students loved their crew leader, Hidari-san. He left a lasting impact on their hearts, earning him that nickname. Recently, Hidari-san has disappeared, and the students are worried-but during his absence, people start going missing, including Raiden's older sister, Saori. Raiden and Meika, who initially despise each other, team up to uncover the truth behind the disappearances. Their friends Yuki and Aoi force their way into the mission, determined to help, even as danger closes in. Together, they stumble upon Hidari-san's notebook-a chilling list of names, including Meika's. Can they uncover the truth before it's too late, or will Hidari-san's secrets claim them all?

පළවෙනි පාරට , වැස්සට විනාඩි හතකට පෙර , බස් නැවතුම්පොළ හිස් වෙලා තිබුණා...!

|I never told you And you will never know The secrets the stars whispered to me That night under the moon| Cover credits to: @LeroyGraphics

Ink Over Silence is a collection of everything I couldn't say out loud. The thoughts I swallowed. The emotions I hid. The version of me no one noticed breaking. Between pressure and identity, silence and emotion, breaking and becoming-these pages hold what words couldn't carry in speech. Because sometimes, silence is louder than words- and ink becomes the only way to survive it. And somewhere in the quiet, when everything feels too heavy to hold alone, there is grace.

The Moon Goddess, Luna, rules the night from a throne no one could reach, and no one could truly see. She has everything a god could possess, power, beauty, luxury, and wisdom-except one thing she was never meant to want: a life of her own. Every step she takes away from divinity pulls her deeper into consequences the gods will not forgive. For once a god learns to feel like a human, even the heavens may no longer be able to bring her back. "Is it wrong... for a being to want something she was never meant to want?" She lowered her gaze toward the world beneath her, where mortals suffered, laughed, and chose-even when it hurt. "I was given everything," "And yet... I envy those who have less, because they have something I do not." Freedom.

Short poems exploring the pain of losing someone without truly losing them, but losing yourself instead. A quiet grief for the past version that will never return, and the fragile hope of becoming something new, until sorrow slowly turns into joy. 📌 Pinterest board: https://pin.it/397dQqEff

What happens when the world goes quiet, but your mind doesn't? 𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄 isn't a story. It's a series of moments, the kind you don't talk about in daylight. The kind that sit with you when the room is dark, when the clock is too loud, when sleep refuses to be kind. These poems don't ask to be understood. They ask to be felt. From fragile beauty hidden in unexpected places, to silent battles no one sees, to thoughts that linger somewhere between breaking and becoming, this collection moves like the night itself-soft, restless, and a little unforgiving. Some poems will feel like comfort. Some will feel like confrontation. And some will feel like they were written from a place you've been trying to avoid. Read it slowly. Or don't. The night doesn't rush. And neither do the truths waiting inside it.