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₊˚.🌷 0+ Mega  ≡ ࿔. 
₊˚.🌷 0+ Mega  ≡ ࿔. 
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The failed whirlwind

They say, “That one? That boy? He fell,
Not once, but twice, and learned it well.”
She mocks his name like it’s a joke,
He’s just the ash that never woke.
They built him up to watch him drop,
Now every glance says, “Make it stop.”

He gave them years, they gave him shame,
He walked through fire, they cursed his name.
This house, these walls, they spit him out,
A shadow wrapped in whispered doubt.
They talk as though he’s less than dirt,
Just failure draped in human hurt.

“He’s just like that,” they say and grin,
“Another useless, lost has-been.”
She nods along, like it’s a fact,
That broken ones don’t make it back.
Those cousins soared, those others passed,
While he’s just silence meant to last.

He doesn’t fight. He doesn’t speak.
They made him small, they made him weak.
He sits where no one dares to see,
The family’s cursed apology.
“He’s not like them,” they proudly say,
“He’s proof that some just fade away.”

They love the sound of his collapse.
It makes their egos fill the gaps.
That pressure cooked him, cracked his spine,
And still they serve their tainted wine.
She laughs, “At least he tried, I guess,
But life just chews up all the less.”

He walks, but never leaves a trace.
No name, no pride, no saving face.
He’s not a man, they stripped that word.
He’s just the silence no one heard.
Those eyes that stare don’t see a thing.
He’s just a bell that doesn't ring.

This isn’t tragic. This is real.
He’s what the world forgets to feel.
They feed on ruins like it’s sport.
They turned his life into a court.
And in that court, he’s always blamed,
Forever stained, forever shamed.

So here he stays, beneath their feet.
Not dead. Not living. Just complete.
A perfect tale for all to learn,
How dreams don’t fly…
They crash.
They burn.

He danced along the drifting days,
while whispers warned in hurried haze.
He'd taste the start, then turn away,
forgetful of the mounting fray.

Each stumble worn like casual thread,
a tapestry of "not yet" spread.
Each vow to change was softly said,
then laid to rest among the dead.

One day, a door, a second sun,
swung wide and begged a bolder run.
He grinned, forgot the ghosts he'd spun,
and chased his laughter in the fun.

The clocks, they spun their secret schemes,
he bathed in wine and waking dreams.
He bore a pride both bright and lean,
and crowned himself a king unseen.

But life, with hands like iron bands,
one day had laid its heavy hand.
The feasts grew cold, the fields were sand,
the map he burned, the ship unplanned.

The mirror cracked with silent cries,
the grin was gone from older eyes.
He met the debt he once denied,
not with a shout, but hollow sighs.

، 🌷 Kung fu pandya 😭🙌 ! ִֶָ·
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