Have you ever felt trapped inside a fortress built by someone else’s power?
I exist,
inside your harsh fortress;
the sun never shines on my face.
I am kept,
both chaste and majestic;
I’m a figure to be ridiculed.
I wonder,
will I escape from here;
to be rescued from this icy place.
—H, crying from the shadows
This poem follows a 3–6–9 syllabic structure – a form inspired by Nikola Tesla’s theory of energy, rhythm and repetition.
Within frost-slick walls a heart waits, its breath a fog of dread; serpents hiss and conscience bleeds until even daylight feels like iron bars.
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A spectral monarch speaks from a crumbling tower, cut off by ambition, betrayal and a heart long turned to frost. This poem drips with decay, not just of power, but of connection, longing and trust.
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A glimmer in the dark — his eyes searching for solace where none exists, finding only the cold chain of his own despair.
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A fierce, defiant protest against forced silence and psychological abuse, this poem exposes the cruelty of control, the violence of censorship, and the quiet war waged against a soul struggling to speak.
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Beneath the moon’s deceitful glow, love coils around its prey — a dark waltz between devotion and the knife.
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While shallow hearts pumped for equality, queens snorted and screamed their hypocrisy. A searing poem about betrayal, gossip and the dark undercurrents of toxic friendships within gay circles.
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Grown in filth without the warmth of nurture, this sorrowful bloom tells of roots strangled by deceit and veins longing for colour. A wilted soul sways in storms, aching for the tender promise of a rainbow.
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In this 3-6-9 micro-poem, a tiger becomes the metaphor for a wild, forbidden love that both captures and awakens. A brief moment of rebirth burns within the embrace of danger.
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Buried beneath silence, a boy’s cries fade into the earth: unheard, unseen and unhealed.
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