...th Moon,

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The moon too burns in silent pain,

Beneath the fierce and golden flame.

All day it hides, unseen, apart,

Carrying fire within its heart.

It gathers sunlight’s blazing glow,

In quiet wounds no eyes may know.

Then when the world is tired and still,

It climbs above the sleeping hill.

No longer fierce, no longer bright,

It turns its pain to silver light.

And softly pours on earth below,

A cooling, tender, peaceful glow.

What burned by day, by night it heals,

In moonlit hush the darkness feels.

A lesson whispered from above—

Even pain can become love.

The moon drinks fire from the sun by day,

Yet shines with grace in the quiet gray.

It borrows light from the blazing sky,

Then paints soft dreams as the night drifts by.

Though born of flames it does not burn,

But cools the earth at its gentle turn.

A silver lamp in the heavens high,

A soothing gaze in the darkened sky.

The sun may dazzle, fierce and bright,

But the moon transforms that flame to light.

It teaches softly, calm and bright—

That warmth can bloom as peace at night.

From borrowed blaze to tender gleam,

The moon becomes the poet’s dream.

A glowing proof for all to see:

Even fire can become serenity.

_keyur_everthing

..We win, untill we don't,

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In life’s vast arenas, I have seen

How fiercely humans strive—

In health, in wealth, in beauty bright,

In brilliant, sharpened mind.

I’ve seen the strong with iron veins,

With bodies carved from stone,

Outrun the years, outfight their pains,

As if time were overthrown.

I’ve seen great towers built of gold,

Rich empires touch the sky,

Fortunes gathered, bought and sold,

With endless reasons why.

I’ve seen bright faces steal the light,

Youth glowing like the dawn,

Mirrors praising flawless sight,

As if age would never come.

I’ve seen quick minds like lightning move,

Ideas bold and grand,

Solving mysteries, shaping truth,

Commanding sea and land.

Yes—

In health, in wealth, in beauty, brain,

We win again, again.

We taste success, we conquer pain,

We rise above all men.

But time walks softly, never loud,

It does not rush or bend—

And when the final dusk is bowed,

Death waits at every end.

Strength will bow to fragile breath,

Gold will lose its claim,

Beauty fades in silent depth,

Thought forgets its flame.

And then we learn, however tall

Our victories may have been—

The final battle conquers all,

And death alone will win.

Yet still—

To live, to strive, to dare, to dream,

Is not a loss, nor sin.

For though death claims the closing scene,

Life wins in how we’ve lived within.

_keyur_everything

...Emotional She,

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Today I saw myself

reflected in your eyes—

the way feelings arrive

all at once,

too big for the body,

too honest for armor.

You feel deeply,

the way oceans do not apologize for their tides.

And when I recognized that truth in you,

my chest tightened—

not from doubt,

but from knowing how sharp

the world can be

to soft things.

This world loves loud strength,

thick skin,

carefully measured hearts.

It does not always know

what to do

with children who feel

everything.

I almost cried,

not because you are fragile,

but because you are not.

Because I know how much courage

it takes

to stay open

when life teaches you

to close.

Jihaana,

if you carry my emotions,

know this too:

they are not a curse.

They are the reason we notice beauty,

the reason we love without shortcuts,

the reason we refuse to become cruel

just to survive.

The world may try to harden you.

I will teach you instead

how to protect your softness

without losing it.

And if you ever ache

the way I do,

remember—

even in a cruel world,

it is hearts like yours

that quietly keep it human.

_keyur_everything