Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
I write to hear the voice I hide,
Between the lines where truths reside.
Each word I place is soft yet loud,
A quiet scream beneath a crowd.
The ink flows like a restless sea,
Carrying pieces of what was me.
It shapes the fears I cannot say,
And turns the night into a day.
A page becomes my only friend,
A place where broken thoughts can mend.
No judge, no eyes, no whispered blame,
Just silent words without a name.
And when I’m lost, I write again,
To trace my soul through ink and pen.
About the Creator
Ibrahim
I'm a creative writer in the way that I write. I hold the pen in this unique and creative way you've never seen
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