The dreams we cherish, will they come to be? In perfect worlds, all wishes would align. Yet still I wonder, as I search to see, What life will bring, and how it will define. The storms may rage, yet in their swirling mist, I catch a glimpse of light that leads the way. Each answer seems elusive, hard to grasp, But still I hope, and keep my fears at bay. Though answers fade, my hope w...

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“The Bitter Cup” reflects the themes of enduring hardship and finding strength in the face of suffering, inspired by Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s “Surrounded by Good Powers...” The sonnet explores the idea of accepting life’s trials with quiet courage, symbolised by the "bitter cup," and trusting that even through pain, we move towards light and renewal. It echoes Bonhoeffer’s own spirit of res...

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If I were God, no tyrant’s fist Would strike the world and call it law. No throne would stand on broken backs, No crown be forged from cries of pain. The fattened few who drink from veins Of those who toil, who starve, who break, Would wake to find their golden feasts Had turned to dust upon their tongues. No child would fade to hollow bone, No mother beg for crusts of bread, No fa...

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Today, three years ago, Russia launched its brutal invasion of Ukraine, shattering peace and unleashing a wave of destruction. Towns were levelled, lives torn apart, and a nation thrust into an endless struggle for survival. Despite the relentless violence, Ukraine remains unyielding, its people refusing to surrender. The world has watched as the cost in blood and suffering continues to rise, and ...

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This poem is about a society increasingly divided, where accusations fly and truth seems lost. It speaks to the urgency of listening instead of blaming, understanding instead of judging, and choosing hope over fear. In a world where opinions are quickly voiced and emotions run high, the poem urges a shift in perspective—one that values connection, love, and the strength to find hope, even in diffi...

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Beneath the aching winter’s shroud,

A child walked mute through the bustling crowd.

Her feet, bare whispers on the frozen stone,

Her ribs a harp of hunger’s tone.

 

She carried a box, her treasure, her thread

Of tiny star-sticks, sulfur-fed.

She called to the rich, the hurried, the gray,

“Buy one, kind sir, and light your way.”

 

But no one paused, no coin was tossed,

...

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This poem tries to capture the pain of watching a friend succumb to addiction, bound to a destructive habit that erodes both health and hope. As one friend struggles with the limits of friendship and "agape", the other slips further and further away, lost in a cycle that breaks promises and bodies alike. This poem hopefully serves as both plea and ultimatum—a haunting look at the cost of holding o...

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For me, there should be roses raining,
A sky of wonders, never waning.
The world should twist, turn on its head,
And all its worries left unsaid.

 

At sixteen, I dreamt with quiet fire,
To reach the heights, to never tire.
To claim my place, to stand my ground,
With every voice, I’d make a sound.

 

And later, I longed for something grand,
To see the world, to understand.
Not lo...

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