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 ...
Play safe in this life of mystery,
A moving board of silent history,
Where every choice becomes a sign,
A hidden move through space and time.
Life is a game no soul can pause,
A field of risks, a world of laws,
Some rush forward without a plan,
Then lose themselves before they stand.
Play it wisely, calm and slow,
Not every road is yours to go,
For careless hands and reckless pride
Can leave a kingdom lost inside.
Move like a qualified chess player,
Sharp in thought and deep in prayer,
Thinking ten more steps ahead
Before the dangerous path is spread.
The board is filled with traps unseen,
False crowns shining bright and clean,
Smiling faces, poisoned words,
Silent wolves among the birds.
Protect your peace like precious gold,
Not every truth should be fully told,
Some battles only drain the soul,
While silence keeps the spirit whole.
Life will tempt with quick success,
Shortcuts dressed in a shining dress,
But wise minds know the patient way
Builds stronger victories that stay.
Every pawn can still become
A king beneath the rising sun,
If discipline becomes the guide
And foolish pride is set aside.
Do not move through life too blind,
Train the spirit, shape the mind,
For every action leaves a trace
Upon the board we all must face.
Some lose early chasing fame,
Others master the patient game,
Knowing timing wins the fight
More than force or borrowed light.
So play this life with careful eyes,
Beyond illusions and disguise,
Like chess masters, calm and wise,
Who studies storms before they rise?
And when the final move is near,
May wisdom stand instead of fear,
For those who played this life with grace
Will never truly lose the race.
© 2026 Gloria Penelope
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