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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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When the Candle Learns to Shake #poem

There is a drought in my life,
No matter the season, nothing seems to grow right.
I plant hope in tired soil,
And harvest silence every night.

Hardships fall like endless rain,
Yet no light ever follows the storm.
Just cold drops on an open wound,
A test I was never sworn.

I sit in a dimmed room,
A small candle fighting to stay,
Its flame trembling with each breath,
As if it knows it may fade away.

Dark clouds gather without apology,
They settle deep inside my chest.
I smile—not from joy,
But from distress dressed as strength.

There is no mercy in these hours,
Only questions with no reply.
As if I sinned against heaven,
As if God passed me by.

Luck forgot to learn my name,
Missed my door, lost my trace.
While others wake to gentle mornings,
I greet another shadowed face.

What a sad life, this quiet war,
Fought without applause or sound.
Yet even now, the candle breathes—
Still standing,
Still not down.


© 2025 Gloria Penelope



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