This is a request from the bottom of my heart. I put a piece of their soul into this book, dreaming of the day it would find its readers. I’m asking you, begging you… please be one of my readers. If you’ve ever wanted to support an author’s dream, if you’ve ever wanted to get in on the ground floor of a new series you can fall in love with, please give The Shadow Realm Chronicles: Maeve a chance. This is how dreams live or die. Please. Read it. Fall in love.
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I lost a friend today,
A simple, heavy line
That should descend like sorrow’s shroud,
A grief for what was mine.
I waited for the cutting edge,
The sting of sudden pain,
But found instead a strange relief,
No shadow of a chain.
I should be sad, should mourn the end,
The history we knew,
Yet in my chest a lightness wakes,
Defiant, strong, and new.
The truth is stark, the choice is clear,
I look upon the past:
I am not sorry that it broke,
I am simply glad at last.
The severing was not a hush,
But clash of will and word,
A necessary, cleansing fire
Where my own truth was heard.
I stood firm in the tempest’s heart,
Refused to be denied,
And drew a boundary, sharp and deep,
With nothing left to hide.
The lesson’s hard, but vital known:
Respect must be the core.
A friend should cheer the victory,
And lift you from the floor.
Your champions, they must remain,
To hold your spirit high,
But when support becomes resentment,
The basic contract dies.
When ally turns to critic’s shade,
A drain upon your soul,
They’ve breached the terms of fundamental trust,
And lost their rightful role.
The choice is not of cruelty,
But self-preserving might,
To cast the anchor from the boat,
And step back toward the light.
Assess the ones within your ship,
As you begin to rise;
Not all are rowing for your cause,
Some paddle with disguise.
Your soaring ambition reveals their truth,
Their loyalty gives way,
As jealousy’s shadow clips your wings,
And clouds your brighter day.
So now I mourn the anchor lost,
The friend who pulled me down.
The feeling is no sad despair,
But freedom’s joyful crown.
A paradoxical, weary joy,
A wish that bonds would hold,
Yet still the weight is wholly gone,
A future to unfold.
The boat is lighter now it sails,
The struggle set aside.
I’m rowing, finally, alone,
With nothing left to hide.
https://books2read.com/u/m25Ygd
A steady beacon, you appear,
When shadows gather and I fear
The path ahead is lost and gone
In darkness where I walk alone.
The sole voice of my reason’s plea,
The anchor of reality,
When the world spins with chaotic strife,
You are the breath that restores my life.
A silent force, you bring me peace,
A quiet, beautiful release.
Let tempests rage and gales descend,
Let the harsh winds their fury lend.
Let towering waves crash on the shore,
Threatening to consume all.
Yet, armed with our bond’s deep might,
We will endure, we will unite.
Unbroken, we will conquer all,
Our spirit standing strong and tall.
A lighthouse in the darkest squall,
Together, we will never fall.
While others scatter sparks of joy,
And fill my days without alloy,
Their collective light, a vibrant beat,
Is not the power to complete.
They give my life its rhythm’s art,
And cause the beating of my heart.
But it is you, the vital source,
The enduring love, the steady force,
That keeps my heart on its true course.
You are the reason for life’s continuance,
The core, the heart of my existence.
https://books2read.com/u/m25Ygd
Wait Your Turn
They bid us work, and strive, and strain,
They preach the gospel of grit and pain.
The virtue of patience, a long-held breath,
Wait your turn, they assure, until death.
With diligent toil within the system’s fold,
Good things will come, a story often told.
They hail the high road of academic might,
Perfect grades, degrees, and the burning night
Of all-nighters, leading to institutions grand,
The path to success paved by a diploma in hand.
The central command, the mantra they impart:
Work hard, and success will fill your heart.
But the hollow sound their pronouncements make,
From a sheltered world, for goodnes’s sake.
A place sustained not by relentless effort’s cost,
But by the legacy that was never lost,
By exclusive gates and a lineage long,
A privilege entrenched, where they belong.
They fail to grasp the truth that grinds us down,
The doubled effort just to keep the crown
From slipping, just to stay where we began,
Disconnected from the struggle’s rigid plan,
That harsh existence which our lives define,
While they stand above, on heights divine.
What they possess, we desperately lack:
The insulating cushion on wealth’s track,
Money that shields them from survival’s fear.
They wield the power that holds the system dear,
Shaping the rules, not merely influence slight,
And connections unseen, a web of pure light.
A network of favors, a whispered invitation,
Opportunities passed through each generation,
A resource worth more than all the sweat we’ve spent,
Yet they command us to be more intent.
They stand on their platforms, elevated and cold,
“Work harder,” they shout, a story getting old.
This directive is a self-serving slight,
A useful tool for a blinding light,
To justify their perch, so high and so neat,
To placate the masses, a narrative complete.
Keep us focused on the effort of one,
Ignoring the structures, the battle unwon.
But now we pierce the veil, we understand,
Too long we’ve labored at their harsh command.
Our youth and our fire poured into the drain,
For a system of diminishing, aching pain.
We know by the certitude of what we live,
That harder work will not be enough to give.
It cannot breach the walls that they have raised,
It cannot lift the life we’ve always praised,
Nor close the chasm wide that separates
Their world of ease from the heavy fates.
The meritocracy’s promise, their comforting theme,
Is a fiction, a sermon, a vanishing dream.
It is a sham, a lie both vast and bold,
A hollow pretense, a story bought and sold.
https://books2read.com/u/m25Ygd
The silence stretches, wide and deep, a space
Where my small ‘hello’ falls without a trace.
I check my phone, a habit worn and true,
A faint, false hope that maybe it’s from you.
The thread of connection, I’m the one who weaves,
The constant opener, the one who believes
That if I pause, if I just let it be,
The silence would grow to infinity.
I map the distance, gauge the growing gap,
And I’m the one who always has to ta
Upon the glass, the careful, gentle nudge,
To prove our bond isn’t built on a grudge.
I know your news, the triumphs and the strife,
Because I ask about your life.
I hold the mirror, catching all the light,
And listen late into the lonely night.
But oh, dear friend, a quiet, simple plea
Sometimes I wonder, do you think of me?
When the dark shadows start to close me in,
And my own battle is where I begin…
I wish just once, without a prompting word,
The unexpected check-in would be heard.
To see a message, a small, unsolicited sign,
“Are you okay? How are things on your line?”
To feel the warmth of being sought and seen,
And know I’m valued, not just a machine
For comfort given, always on the call.
I long to know I matter after all.
https://books2read.com/u/m25Ygd
The black phone rests, a silence made of glass,
A direct line across the choking air.
My fingers yearn to seize its cool, smooth mass,
To dial the number etched beyond compare.
A fleeting urge to break the constant drone,
To trade my heart’s loud drumming for a voice unknown.
Or I could message, try to weave a careful plea,
A sequence of small signs, an emoji’s face.
To message more, to bridge the digital sea,
But leaden weight holds me within this space.
I am a prisoner in my own inertia’s thrall,
Unable to bridge the gap from thought to call.
My restless hands climb to my weary head,
To twirl a strand of blonde around a finger’s tip.
A pull, a slow release, a mark of tender red,
Until the coil is tight upon my lip.
A meaningless ritual, a physical display,
Of all the mental turmoil that will not fade away
Inside, the engine roars, though I appear so still,
My heart a frantic drummer beating out alarm.
The air is thin, a breath against my panicked will,
A visceral, exhausting, full-body harm.
Yet, still life carries on, the sun’s indifferent track,
Oblivious to the silent crisis holding back.
And so, I do not call. The paralysis has won,
Against the simple, human wish to just connect.
I hate the phone for what it has become,
A terrifying chance of being now rejected
The pressure of potential, the awkwardness that lies,
Reflected in the fear within my anxious eyes.
I lift my hand again, to message in the night,
But corrosive thoughts poison the touch before it lands:
I am a bother, a shadow, an intrusive blight,
A need that only inconveniences hands.
A self-imposed boundary, a powerful, deep chill,
That freezes my desire and holds my actions still.
This cease-less fight, the heart that pounds and strains,
The hand that freezes on the tool for grace—
The manufactured boundary of “being a pain”—
This is the cage, the isolating space.
Anxiety’s invisible lock, a final, cruel decree,
To watch the phone lie unused, and never to be free.
https://books2read.com/u/m25Ygd
I am strong, a fortress of resilience
Forged in fires of adversity.
My spirit, unyielding, resolute,
Stands tall against the fiercest storms,
Knowing within me resides an indomitable will.
I will prevail, surrender not an option.
Each challenge faced, each obstacle overcome,
Strengthens my resolve, propels me forward,
On the path to victory. I am a testament
To persistence, triumph over tribulation.
I am powerful, not just physical might,
But in the boundless energy of my being.
My thoughts are sparks that ignite change,
My actions ripple effects that reshape my world.
I am a force of nature, orchestrating transformation.
My words can move mountains,
Imbued with conviction and purpose.
Architects of dreams, catalysts for action,
Capable of grandest endeavors,
Shifting stubborn landscapes of thought.
My words can tear people down,
A sobering reminder of immense responsibility.
The power to wound, a shadow lurking,
Ever conscious of its presence.
I choose to lift them up. This is my solemn vow,
My guiding principle. To use my voice,
My language, not to diminish, but to elevate;
Not to destroy, but to construct; not to break, but to mend.
My words will be a beacon of hope, a chorus of encouragement.
I am strong, a vibrant tapestry
Woven with threads of courage and grace.
My heart beats with the rhythm of endurance,
My mind shines with clarity of purpose.
I am a survivor, a thriver, strength blossoming within.
I am loved, enveloped in an embrace
Of warmth and affection, fueling spirit, anchoring soul.
This love, a precious gift, a sanctuary and a springboard,
Empowering me to reach for stars,
And share my own light with the world.
I am beautiful, not by fleeting outward standards,
But by intrinsic radiance of character,
Depth of empathy, purity of intentions.
My beauty emanates from within,
A vibrant glow that touches all who encounter it.
My words can move mountains,
Echoes of deepest convictions,
Reverberating with strength of beliefs.
Instruments of change, shaping perceptions,
Igniting passions, inspiring monumental shifts.
My words can tear people down,
A stark reminder of delicate balance,
Between influence and harm.
The potential for devastation lies
Within the very same tool that can build.
I choose to lift them up.
This is my unwavering commitment,
Etched into the very fabric of my being.
To channel the power of my words towards upliftment,
To wield them as tools of empowerment,
To sow seeds of kindness and understanding.
My voice will be a source of strength,
A comfort to the weary, a testament
To the transformative power of compassionate communication.
Sink your teeth into a great series.
Welcome to the Shadow Realm, where darkness reigns and the night is alive with magic.
If you liked Twilight and Once Upon a time then this series is for you.
Every writer has their own unique style and approach to writing. Focusing on word counts can lead to feelings of inadequacy or pressure to conform to someone else’s standards. Instead, focus on the quality and impact of your writing. Write from the heart and let your words flow naturally. Remember, writing is a journey and every writer has their own path to follow. So, don’t compare yourself to others and enjoy the process of creating something truly unique and special.
