Bhavyat Singla
BTech Student
Northcap University,
Gurugram

A soldier stands alone upon the stone,
Upon a castle terrace, night is his only throne.
The world lies sleeping at his weary feet.
While silence hums a slow, exhausted beat.

He lifts his eyes to stars that shatter and scatter.
As if they know his fears, each unspoken matter.
Unspoken questions linger in his chest.
One he never learnt to name or test.

Something unseen tugs softly at his heart,
A thread of fate, too thin to break apart.
It whispers through the dark, a fragile plea:
Maybe… just maybe… things will be.

He holds his doubts the way scars hold the skin.
Proof of where he’s been, not where he’s been forgiven.
He believes in God, in meaning barely revealed,
In love that asks to be completely yielded.

He wonders what it means to be adored
The way he loves is unmeasured, unignored.
How peaceful life could be, a gentler view.
A dream unjudged, untouched by what we do.

Far from the scales that society employs,
From poisoned hate and sorrow’s endless noise,
A place the world has never taught to harden,
Where gentleness survives without a pardon.

The fog grows thin; the darkness learns to yield.
The moon arrives, both aching and revealed.
Its silver light falls tender, wide, and slow,
On every soul that doesn’t yet know.

It watches eyes still searching through the night,
Every life that hasn’t found its light.
And for a moment, beneath that quiet gleam,
Hope turns from kindness and leans towards the dream.

Not that the world forgives or bends,
But hope can hold us till the end.

Photo Courtesy Unsplash – Thank you Stijn Swinnen

Sadaf
Class 5
Gitanjali Vedika School, Hyderabad
(Budding Writer attending Takhte’s Creative Writing Sessions—Mentor Ms Goldie)

The bus never stops,              
It quickly moves on and on. 
Though, sometimes it slows,  
and at times it hops.                  

Wheels turn and the engine roars,
Comfy seats inside the colourful coach.
Racing through the day and night,
It carries passengers, evermore.

Travellers sit in rows,         
Some read books,            
Some play games,            
And some of them just doze.    

Few friends chatter on and on,
Find bliss in their bond.
Adoring their time,
And sharing stories of a time bygone.

Through the window pane, a world unfolds,  
Outside views are so beautiful,        
Of passing scenes, a colourful gaze,    
Lovely sights and stories untold.     

We ride at a steady pace,                  
At times the bus lurches with a jolt. 
To reach the destination,         
A familiar place.         

And here comes our home,     
It’s time to leave.           
Will meet you again,        
And what a roam!!         

By Abid
Class 3
Gitanjali Vedika School, Hyderabad

(Budding Writer attending Takhte’s Creative Writing Sessions—Mentor Ms Goldie)

Mysteries of the forest, deep and old,
With many stories untold.
Hollow caves, dark and deep,
Full of secrets, hard to keep.

The wind whispers, soft and low,
A gentle breeze, a calm flow.
The glistening lake, a wonderful sight,
Nature’s magic, full of light.

Tall trees reach up to the sky,
Close to the clouds that float high.
Leaves rustling all around,
Makes a haunting sound.

Forest ground covered with grass green,
And tiny creatures’ unseen.
Bees and bats, out of sight,
Whispering day and night.

Look at the way the birds fly,
And deep in the forest, foxes sly.
Moves around a wild boar,
A big animal jumps and roars.

When the night flies away,
Sunlight shines through the day.
A new morning rises up,
Sunflowers and daisies wake up.

Mysteries of the forest, deep and old,
With many stories untold.

Photo by Steven Kamenar on Unsplash