The Whispering Door
When silence starts to breathe, even walls remember the screams they once contained
By Rai Sohaib Published 3 months ago • 1 min read
The house was never empty — it just learned to breathe when no one was watching
Wind hums through old bones,
A door breathes — soft, slow, alive,
Shadows hold their screams.
About the Creator
Rai Sohaib
Writing about life’s hidden patterns and the power of the human mind
Writing poetry and poems
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Welcome to the Winners Announcement for The Ritual of Winter challenge. This prompt focused on winter rituals and the meaning that settles into them over time. The top pieces stay grounded in ordinary acts and repeated routines, letting winter shape the work through pace, attention, and restraint.
By Vocal Curation Team6 days ago in Resources
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