This book is not merely a collection of poems; it is a whisper of a heart laid bare, a journal of emotions inked with longing and loss. The poetess invites us into the most intimate corners of her soul, where love once bloomed, only to wither in the cold betrayal of the one she cherished.
Divided into two parts—Midnight and Whole Moon—this collection flows like the tides of a restless heart. Midnight is the echo of a love that burned too brightly, only to be reduced to ashes. The poetess writes of a love so deep that even in its ruin, it refuses to fade. She stands at the crossroads of heartbreak, torn between forgiving the man who shattered her and walking away, never to look back. With every verse, she swings between the ache of longing and the wisdom of self-preservation. As a reader, as a woman, and as a lover, I believe betrayal is a habit, not a mistake—once broken, trust seldom heals.
Then comes Whole Moon—a gentle dawn after a night of storms. Here, the poetess embraces the quiet joys of life, the music in the rustling leaves, the solace in a fleeting moment. It is a shift from sorrow to self-love, a tender rediscovery of peace. Her words, though touched with longing, now dance with hope.
I do not keep a diary, but I have a guilty pleasure—I steal glances into my friends’ journals, savoring their secret musings. This book felt like just that—an intimate confession, raw and unfiltered, yet wrapped in the grace of poetry. At a time when my own life feels weary and drained, these words were a bouquet of fresh romantic roses, filling my soul with their lingering fragrance.
Perhaps I have woven my own story into her verses, perhaps I have misread her pain—but that is the beauty of poetry. It speaks differently to every heart, leaving behind a tale only the reader can tell.