Sparklers

the quiet of the dark,

A spark dares to dance.

Brief but bold,

It whispers of chance.


It flares in the stillness,

A fleeting fire,

Yet in its glow,

Lies a silent desire.


Not every step is measured,

Not every move planned,

Sometimes the spark ignites,

With no map in hand.


-Sheeza





Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Little Update on ‘Never Alone’ & What’s Next!

Hey everyone! Just a quick update on the 'Never Alone' story I’ve been posting here. I know many of you have been eagerly waiting for the next chapter, and I can tell you're all really excited to find out what happens next. Well, I’ve got a bit of bad news... I won’t be posting any more chapters on the blog due to some personal reasons. But don’t worry, I’m still working on the story! I’m hoping to finish it up and maybe even publish it on Kindle – who knows? It’s been tough juggling writing with school, but I’m really happy to see so much interest in my work. I always try to be consistent and post every day... emphasis on try . The good news is that I’ll be posting a new poem today! And if you’ve got any ideas for short stories you’d like me to write, feel free to leave a comment below or email me. I’d love to hear your suggestions. As for school... well, it’s been... fine, I guess. Nothing too serious yet, but I’ve got tests coming up, and the procrastination is real. The...
Read more

POV: The Artist Lost in Chaos

Image
You sit in your room, the dim glow of your desk lamp casting shadows on the empty sketchbook in front of you. It’s been months—maybe even a year—since you’ve touched a pencil with the intent to create, and the thought stings more than you’d like to admit. There was a time when drawing, painting, or sketching was your escape, a world where nothing else mattered. You could spend hours lost in the flow of colors and shapes, pouring your heart into every stroke. Back then, you felt alive—free. But now, it feels like a distant memory, a luxury you no longer have time for. Your schedule is a blur of deadlines, expectations, and responsibilities. School demands perfection. Family expects results. The world moves too fast for you to keep up. The pressure presses down like a weight on your chest, suffocating every ounce of creativity that once flowed so easily. You stare at the blank page, the pencil trembling in your hand. You want to draw, to paint, to bring that part of you back to life. But...
Read more

Never Alone: Her

  Chapter 5 ‘ Ting!!’ The school bell rang. Students rushed to their classes, running, talking, pushing. Their whispers faded as the thudding of footsteps vanished. My feet led me to my class while I tried to stay invisible. I froze when I saw the booby trap—a disgusting mess waiting to humiliate me. My heart sank as I heard him, his wet laugh filling the air like static. The worst part wasn’t the trap; it was that I wasn’t surprised. This was how my day was going to go. ‘Yo, smelly! Watch out for your pants,’ he said, smirking. Before I could process the sting of embarrassment, she stepped in. ‘Wow, how original,’ she said, her tone razor-sharp. I looked up to see her—a girl with fierce green eyes and a confidence that cut through the room. The way she defended me was almost surreal, like it came out of nowhere. Why was she helping me? People like her didn’t notice people like me. ‘Nice catch on the chair,’ she said softly as she walked past me to her seat. ‘Not ever...
Read more