Shayan Afzal

There is a quiet ache that lingers beneath the surface of every moment, a longing for the world to stand still, to stay as it is, or perhaps as it once was. In these haikus, the search for something solid unfolds like a whispered conversation with the night—a conversation where the answers are elusive, but the questions remain. These verses speak to the human need for certainty in a world that seems to shift with every breath, where even the things we trust the most can dissolve before our eyes.

Each haiku is a step on an uncertain path, hands reaching out for something to hold—something that won’t turn to dust when we close our fingers around it. But the wind moves, the stones scatter, and the sky folds itself into silence. In that silence, we find both the fear and the hope that perhaps, just perhaps, the world will not turn upside down after all.

This collection is not about answers; it is about the reaching, the grasping, the unending search for the ground beneath our feet. And perhaps, in the spaces between these words, you’ll feel the same need to hold on to something real, something that will not slip away.

In the night’s still hum,
I reach for the quiet earth—
It slips through my hands.

The sky holds its breath,
Whispering promises of
A world still in place.

Empty hands grasp air,
Seeking the shape of the truth—
A dream solid fades.

Where does silence go
When all I can hear is me,
Echoes in the dark?

Is the ground steady,
Or do I walk on shadows
Pretending to hold?

Clouds shift and scatter,
Fingers tremble for the sun—
A light to keep still.

A stone in my palm,
Heavy with the weight of time,
Slips like it’s nothing.

Waves crash on the shore,
But the sand beneath my feet
Shifts with every step.

I speak to the stars,
Hoping they will answer back,
But they blink and fade.

A tree stands alone,
Its roots deep within the earth—
Yet leaves fall like tears.

Footsteps echo loud,
Chasing something never found—
A path circles back.

The moon hides its face,
Leaving me to wonder if
It was ever real.

Hands reach out for light,
But shadows wrap tighter still,
An endless embrace.

Rain falls on my skin,
But I feel nothing inside—
Am I even here?

I lean on a rock,
Feeling the weight of its strength—
But it shifts beneath.

Can I trust the ground,
Or will it give way once more,
Falling into voids?

Eyes search for the truth,
But the world mirrors itself,
A distorted glass.

The sun fades too fast,
Like the warmth of solid hands
That once held me close.

I grip at the edge,
Hoping to find something firm—
The edge crumbles down.

A thread of belief
Spins in circles, unraveling
Before it can hold.

Night falls soft again,
Covering the cracks I see—
But I know they’re there.

Wind speaks through the trees,
Telling stories of the past—
Do I hear them right?

A distant echo,
Fading before it returns—
Am I losing it?

Water slips through hands,
Like all the moments I missed,
Gone before I knew.

I touch the dark sky,
Wondering if it feels cold,
Or if it feels me.

The ground trembles low,
Quiet like a warning sign—
Still, I hold my breath.

Mountains look so strong,
Yet time wears them down to dust—
I can feel it too.

I stare at the moon,
Looking for a constant face—
But it shifts again.

If this is the truth,
Why does it slip from my hands,
Leaving me to doubt?

I carve my own path,
But the wind erases it
Before I can turn.

A river runs still,
But deep below, currents pull—
Nothing is steady.

Clouds gather above,
Heavy with the weight of rain—
But will they release?

I press my hand firm,
Against the solid oak tree—
Even it can fall.

The sun rises slow,
Pulling shadows from the earth—
Nothing stays hidden.

A quiet moment,
The world seems still for a breath—
But it never lasts.

I hold out my hand,
Waiting for something to fall—
But nothing answers.

The world tilts again,
Throwing me off balance fast—
Will it settle soon?

Grass bends in the wind,
Returning to its old place—
But will it next time?

A bell tolls somewhere,
Ringing out for what was lost—
Can I find it still?

Each step feels unsure,
Like the ground is made of smoke,
And I’ll fall right through.

Shadows stretch so long,
Reaching out beyond the day—
But they leave no mark.

The earth calls my name,
A soft whisper through the night—
But will it answer?

A flame flickers low,
Dancing on the edge of dark—
Can it stay alight?

I dig deep for roots,
But they slip away like sand—
Where is something firm?

Stars blink in and out,
Fleeting as the thoughts I keep—
Can I hold them close?

The sky folds itself,
Tucking dreams beneath its wings—
But they drift away.

Each breath feels so light,
Like the air could just dissolve—
Will it last this time?

I stack stones with care,
Hoping they’ll form something real—
But the wind scatters.

Hands reach for the night,
Grasping at the silent dark—
But it turns to light.

At last, I find still,
In the spaces between words—
The silence holds me.