Nancy Ann Creed

Unveiling Secrets: A Journey of Heartbreak I once thought I was your confidante, That you told me everything, But now I see that I was wrong, That I was just another fool. You tell others things you’ve never told me, Secrets that you keep close, And I am left in the dark, To wonder what I did wrong. Am I not important to you? Am I not worthy of your trust? Or is there someone else you’ve chosen, To take my place in your heart? I don’t know the answers to these questions, But I do know that I’m hurt, And that I’m no longer sure, If I want to be a part of your life. The silence between us grows louder each day, A wall built of secrets and whispers untold, I watch from the sidelines as you drift away, Leaving memories turning fragile and cold. So I will step back from the shadows you cast, And guard the small pieces of heart that remain, No longer a prisoner to what's in the past, Learning to walk through the quiet and pain. More Works by Nancy Ann Creed Ebooks http://payhip.com/Nanc...

  The Shadow in the Room My words mean nothing, they drift like falling leaves, Unheard and unvalued, while my spirit grieves,  speak into the vacuum of your cold indifference, Finding no echo, no bridge, no deliverance. My heart means nothing, it's a pulse, a quiet plea, For a glimmer of worth that you refuse to see, Beating against the cage of your neglectful gaze, Lost in the fog of these hollow, endless days. You do what you want, in your self-centered tide, With little care for me, or the pain I must hide, Sweeping through the hours with a callous disregard, While I am left to mend what you have torn and scarred. Significance fades, I am sealed by fate, An afterthought wrapped in isolation's state, Waiting on the periphery of your vibrant world, Like a banner forgotten, forever left unfurled. Until you need something, a favor to lend, Then I am important, a convenient friend, Suddenly the shadow gains a sudden, sharp light, And I am summoned briefly from t...

 Maeve is finally free—but at what cost? Follow her journey from a quiet life of motherhood into the dark, predatory heart of the Shadow Realm. Experience the beginning of a war that spans worlds and the transformation that changes everything. Get sucked into the darkness. Check out the link below to continue the journey: The Shadow Realm Chronicles: Maeve https://books2read.com/u/m25Ygd Chapter 1 The Great War Many years ago, darkness tore apart the worlds. They called it the Great War, for it was massive and involved all the realms of each world. Enemies on either side grew their armies for battle with heavy casualties. New allies formed out of this bloodshed while old ones crumbled.  The world of the Faye changed forever as their king descended into madness. His name was Julian. He once was a loving ruler, but those times were long gone. The pages written of him now are full of rage, blood, and hatred. Hatred for his children who grew to love ...

  Many years ago, a creeping, insidious darkness tore apart the very fabric of existence, fracturing the delicate peace between the realms. This cataclysmic event was later known simply as the Great War. It was a conflict of staggering magnitude, a blight that touched every single world and every realm within them. The air was thick with the stench of iron and ozone, and the ground continually trembled beneath the tramp of massive, opposing armies. Both sides—the defenders of the light and the forces of the shadow—grew their legions with ruthless efficiency, their sole purpose the annihilation of the other. The cost in lives was immeasurable, the casualties so heavy that entire generations were wiped out in the span of a single battle. Yet, out of this horrific bloodshed, new alliances were forged, desperate pacts between unlikely companions united by the common enemy, even as ancient, trusted alliances crumbled into dust. No world suffered a more profound and tragic transform...

  Photo by Valentin Lacoste on Unsplash 📝 The Echo in the Well We walked the same path, pen in hand, Mind alight, a shared commitment's sign. Pilgrims in a lonely, distant land, Chasing the same bright star, divine. Our bond, once firm, was forged by toil, Ink-smudged paper, the screen's harsh glow, A hopeful process on a hungry soil, A private weight the outside doesn't know. But when the harvest comes, a sudden wrench, The seed you sow brings fruit upon my ground. The garden blooms, across a mutual bench, But only your name is on the flowers found. My careful work, the agonizing hours, My every effort, tragically the same, Is rendered Invisible, stripped of all its powers, Swallowed whole by an eclipsing fame. They gather 'round your posts, a swelling tide, A deluge of bright approvals, warm and fast. Endorsements flow, they cannot seem to hide The joy they feel that you have made it last. I am a shadow in this scene so bright, An old contact they vaguely knew,...

Photo by Vladimir Fedotov on Unsplash  It was not a solo journey, It was meant for both of us to keep. A path shared, a mutual destiny, A bond where promises run deep. We walked side by side, our footprints one, A single narrative of hope begun. But the story broke, the path was closed, I stood on the chasm's crumbling brim, As a silhouette, slowly transposed Into the inevitable, growing dim. The 'we' became an 'I', a hollow sound, In this desolate, forsaken ground. Ashes and dust are all that stay Of the bright fire we held in trust, A barren landscape, grey today, Where life dissolved in the air's cruel gust. The physical presence is no more, Leaving the grit of loss upon the floor. Then voices come from the periphery, Offering platitudes in careful phrase. They say, "It is not personal, you see," A necessary turn in cosmic haze. A consequence, unavoidable and stark, A wheel that turns and leaves no malice mark. They speak these words, so cold and c...

  Photo by Hebert Santos on Pexels.com The Shattered Image The depth of my disappointment is immense, I truly thought you were a person of integrity, Whose every action would align, with no pretense, With the strong character you seemed to be. "I thought you were better" is too mild to say; I saw in you a loyalty I sought to find, A moral standard now just dust and clay, A shattered image of a perfect mind. The thing you did, or failed to do, you see, Was not a simple letdown; "it crushed me" whole. It was a devastating blow to my reality, A chasm swallowing my trusting soul. I had invested trust and boundless hope, An extraordinary quantity of "faith in you," To find it misplaced, I now must grope, A personal failure, though the fault is true. Our bond, which I so dearly held and prized, Was based on a belief in shared pure light. "I thought we were actually friends," I realized, Now every memory feels contaminated, blight. Each moment...

  I thought you were my certain shield, The one true, steadfast, loyal friend. A naive conviction, now revealed, That you would stand until the end, No matter the storm, the challenge faced, Your full resolve, completely placed. I sought a fierce, unwavering vow, A pure defense, holding nothing back, A perfect pledge, as you know how, To guard my ground along the track. A hundred percent, my only plea, Undeniable fealty. But that fierce certainty is gone, A shattered faith, a painful lie. I wake to realize at dawn, I lack the worth that merits why— I'm not enough, I see it clear, To warrant that support so dear. The wound of 'sorry' is a slight, A shallow balm that cannot mend The hollow ache of broken light; It will not bring the hurt to end. For others hold a higher seat, They taste the loyalty I greet. And so, the starkest truth remains, A bitter draught I must consume: To face the isolating rains, To walk alone within the gloom. I must accept, in every plight, I st...

  Photo by Monstera Production on Pexels.com When is it Enough? How long must the open hand remain, When the other will not meet its strain? The core dilemma of the human tie, A painful question of loyalty, Endurance, and how much self-worth you'll spend, To reach a silence that will never end. How long does the title of "friend" hold true? When shared history's debt is overdue, And the present moment is marked by cold harm, Or the chilling indifference of a broken charm? When does the label become a hollow sound, A testament to what was, not what is found? Is the sacred practice of prayer still right, For a soul unconcerned with your day or night? Does intercession become a painful toll, A thankless rite for a disregarding soul? The spirit's commitment is tested and frayed, By the walls of betrayal that have been laid. When they tarnish your name with calculated lies, How long do you absorb the pain behind your eyes? When they won’t speak, a barrier high...