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Love's Dark Reflection #lovepoetry #poetrydaily #poemaday

Love was never a heartbeat. It was the echo left behind after the heart forgot why it was still beating. It arrived wearing another person's face, its hands stitched together from promises that had already begun to rot. I welcomed it. Not because it was kind, but because loneliness knows how to mistake a wolf for warmth. Every smile it offered cast a longer shadow. Every whispered "forever" fed another ghost sleeping beneath my ribs. The thought of love is a clever liar. It builds cathedrals from broken mirrors, then asks us to kneel before our own reflections, calling the illusion destiny. How eagerly we obey. We water flowers that grow from graves, write poems to people who never truly existed, and embrace memories still unborn. Love watches. Silent. Patient. Like a spider waiting in the center of a web woven from hope. It never forces us inside. It simply lets us believe the silver threads are rays of morning light. By the time we understand, the sky has forgotten our ...
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The Quiet Thief "death" #poem

Time slips softly through our hands,
Between the tasks we rush to do,
Measured not by clocks or days,
But how we live, and what we choose.

It hides inside our daily plans,
In hurried steps and shallow breath,
We spend it as if it were endless,
Unaware it walks with death.

Tomorrow stands behind a veil,
A mystery no soul can read,
Destiny writes in hidden ink,
Unseen paths our feet may lead.

Life unfolds like whispered truth,
One moment clear, the next unknown,
A fragile flame that dances bright,
Yet knows it’s never fully owned.

For any day may be the last,
Any night may close the door,
Time does not ask for permission—
It simply moves, then moves no more.

So hold your moments gently now,
Speak the love you mean to say,
For life is brief, and time is shy,
And mystery decides the day.


© 2025 Gloria Penelope

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