Tag: Wordplay

Liam was restless, the sky hung low,
Life was dull, the days moved slow.
Behind his shed, through mud and vine,
He found a lamp with an emerald shine.

He gave it a rub with a shrug, half-bold—
Out rose a shimmer of lavender and gold.
A woman emerged with stardust eyes,
Her voice was soft like lullabies.

“I’m Lyra,” she said, with a wistful sigh,
“A genie of wishes—three, then goodbye.”
“Ask what you will, but choose them wise.
Not all that glitters is truly a prize.”

“First,” said Liam, “I want success—
Fame, fortune, all the rest.”
Poof! In seconds, his name was known,
A world of applause, a glittering throne.

“Second,” he grinned, “make me adored.
Friends by the dozen, fans by the horde!”
And so it was—his phone rang nonstop,
Praise and selfies, he’d reached the top.

But soon came the asks, and the desperate cries:
“Wish for my sister,” “My brother just died.”
“Can you fix the world?” “Make hunger end.”
“Wish for us, Liam—be more than pretend.”

Their voices clung like vines to his name,
Every call was coated in effortless blame.
He’d wanted joy, but now bore their weight—
A million ol’ hands reaching all through his gate.

And so, for his third, he looked to the sky.
Then back at Lyra, with tears in his eye.
“I wish,” he said, “for all this to be done.
No more wishes for me—not for anyone.”

Her smile faintly dimmed. “You mean…?” she asked.
He nodded once. “I wish for your last.”

She staggered back, her light turned cold,
A shimmer of sorrow in silver and gold.
“Liam,” she whispered, “I lived for the giving…
But you’ve wished it away—ending my living.”

Yet, she bowed. As was her vow.
With a final glow, she vanished now.

The lamp turned dull, the silence grew—
And Liam sat in a world he once knew.

Alone with fame, alone with gold,
Alone with a wish far too cold.
And deep in his chest, it softly aches—
The cost of a wish that a kind heart breaks.

©️ 2025

Beneath the twilight’s dim-lit gaze,
I stumbled upon Death in a shadowed haze.
Cloaked in silence, a figure still,
Its presence burned, a frigid chill.

“No, not yet,” I cried, my voice a storm,
“This cannot be, it feels too warm.
The sun still rises, the world still turns,
Surely, Life’s flame still fiercely burns.”
But Death stood firm, no word it spoke,
Its eyes like mirrors, my hope it broke.

“How dare you come!” my fury roared,
“To snatch the dreams I’ve yet explored.
You thief of time, you cruel deceit,
I’ll rage until your grasp’s defeat!”
But Death stood patient, calm and still,
A shadow bound by fate’s own will

“Please,” I begged, with trembling plea,
“Take my years but leave them free.
Spare those I love, or delay your claim,
I’ll give you gold, I’ll bear the blame.”
Yet Death, unmoved, began to wane,
Its silence sharper than my pain.

A void engulfed me, vast and deep,
A bitter ocean where sorrows creep.
“What’s left for me?” I asked the dark,
“My heart, extinguished, bears no spark.”
And Death, though silent, seemed to sigh,
As stars wept tears across the sky.

Then light emerged, a subtle glow,
A whispered truth I came to know:
“Though Death may come, it does not sever,
For love and memory live forever.”
I reached for Death, no fear, no plea,
And walked with it, at last set free.

Through every stage, I met my end,
But Death, it seems, became my friend.

2025 ©️