You laugh at them. You point your finger and call them a fool. Their silence amuses you, their gentleness becomes your joke, and the crowd joins your laughter as if kindness were weakness. It feels enjoyable today, sweet on your tongue like careless victory. Their patience becomes your stage, their humility your entertainment. But time is a quiet witness. It watches without speaking, It writes its lessons slowly in the turning pages of life. A day will come When laughter turns into tears. The echoes of your mockery will return to your own ears like thunder across an empty sky. Situations will arise without warning, storms without hands to beat you Yet heavy enough to break your pride. Pain will arrive quietly, And you will feel the trembling of a heart that once laughed too loudly. And that fool, that funny person you once mocked, may stand in the distance, not laughing, but witnessing your tears, your shaking voice, Your falling ego. For life has a patient way of bending the tallest p...
When you drape deceit upon my name,
do not expect me to wilt like a wounded flower.
I am not fragile porcelain
set upon the shelf of your amusement.
I am flint against steel,
And your trickery is the spark
you never learned to fear.
You thought your are clever,
weaving velvet lies with a silver tongue,
masking intent behind honeyed breath.
But I taste falsehood
the way wolves taste blood in winter air.
Understand this,
My stillness is not surrender.
It is a calculation.
It is the ocean before the tempest,
the hush before cathedrals collapse.
When I react,
it is not noise,
It is reckoning.
I do not scatter madness blindly;
I distill it.
I refine it into something precise,
a blade forged in the furnace of betrayal.
You call it fury,
I call it balance restored.
For when someone dares
to outwit my patience,
to gamble with my trust,
they awaken something ancient,
a law older than pride:
Karma.
And I,
I become its instrument.
Not cruel without cause,
not wrathful without wound,
but inevitable.
So tread lightly
with your clever disguises.
For when you fool me,
You do not break me,
You summon the part of me
that does not tremble,
does not retreat,
Do not forget.
You summon the storm
That answers deception
with thunder.
© 2026 Gloria Penelope
Comments