She Real? She Prayer?

NABINJYOTI BEHERA
NABINJYOTI BEHERA
September 10, 2026 · 3 min read
She Real? She Prayer?

I reach out blindly just to touch her hair, I feel her presence, but she isn't there, A fading whisper floats across the air, Wondering if she is real or just a prayer.

She feels so close, a breath beneath the sky, I see her standing near, then watch her fly, She slips like smoke before my waking eye, Wondering if she is real, and asking why.

Is she a ghost sent from the quiet deep, A secret hidden somewhere in my sleep? Does she return whenever shadows creep, Or is she only born from dreams I keep?

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She moves like royalty through halls of gleam, A reigning queen inside a silver dream, Her eyes are brighter than the moonlight's beam, Yet disappear before the morning's gleam.

I walk through silence just to hear her speak, I chase her shadow down each lonely street, I search for traces that my senses seek, But every road leaves me alone and weak.

Are these her hands that brush against my face, Or only memories I cannot erase? I close my eyes and feel her warm embrace, Then wake to find an empty, silent space.

If she is real, why does she fade away? Why does she vanish with the break of day? Why does the darkness take her far away, And leave me searching for the words to say?

I am the dreamer lost within the spell, Trapped in a world no waking tongue can tell, Where every shadow knows her name so well, And every heartbeat rings a distant bell.

She rules a kingdom built of mist and lies, Yet holds my spirit captive as she flies, I watch her vanish underneath the skies, Still searching for the truth behind her eyes.

Sometimes I hear her footsteps by my door, Then silence falls as it has done before, I call her name and listen evermore, But hear only the lonely night's encore.

Sometimes she smiles beneath the silver moon, And for a moment, every wound feels healed, But when I reach, she disappears too soon, Leaving the truth forever unrevealed.

Am I asleep, or has she made me blind? Is she a ghost, or all that's left of mind? Perhaps she is the dream my soul designed, A hidden love that darkness lets me find.

And when the morning slowly fills the air, I search the empty room, but she's not there, Still holding on to memories we could share, Wondering if she is real or just a prayer.

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