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Still Water, Clear Mind
Published Dec 20, 2025
Updated Dec 20, 2025
Poetry and Songs
3 min
Poetry and Songs
Published Dec 20, 2025
Updated Dec 20, 2025
3 min
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21 readings
Still Water, Clear Mind
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The weight’s crushing; it bends my spine,
Every breath costs more than resign.
I walk slower than yesterday,
But the shadows don’t pull me away.
My thoughts don’t bark; they barely whisper,
They sit beside me, growing softer.
No knives tonight, no inner war,
Just reflection… that I swore.
I stopped chasing borrowed skies,
Stopped believing polished lies.
When the noise finally let me be,
I heard the truth breathe quietly.
In the mirror of a silent pond,
I see the world and far beyond.
Stripped of deceit and stripped of fear,
What’s left is fragile, but sincere.
A single ray, a gentle flame,
Dancing slow, refusing shame.
The sad part is: the world’s beautiful,
Tragically so… and it’s painful.
Society sells speed and shine.
Calls it living, calls it fine.
But I was never built to run
At least not toward a fake sun.
I slow my steps, I lower my gaze,
Find depth where others see a haze.
Melancholy, dense and wide,
Feels less like pain… more like a tide.
No victory, no grand design,
Just standing still feels like a sign.
When I stop fighting what I feel,
The weight stays… but it turns real.
In the mirror of a silent pond,
I see the world and far beyond.
Stripped of deceit and stripped of fear,
What’s left is fragile, but sincere.
A single ray, a gentle flame,
Dancing slow, refusing shame.
The sad part is: the world’s beautiful,
Tragically so… and it’s painful.
My mind reflects what doesn’t lie.
No need to scream to touch the sky.
Thoughts sink deep, but don’t decay,
They settle, clear, at the end of day.
I don’t need joy to justify
This quiet truth I can’t deny:
Even broken, even slow,
There’s grace in simply letting go.
In the mirror of a silent pond,
I see myself, the world, our bond.
Not healed, not saved, not even light,
Just fully here, and that feels right.
Last sun ray on the water still,
No promise made, no need to chill.
The sad part is: the world’s beautiful,
Tragically so… and it’s painful.
Heavy days don’t kill the view.
They only strip it down to true.
21 readings
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