IF I WRITE - By Hiral Mankad

Written By: Hiral Mankad

Category: Poetry

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

In the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, Hiral Mankad presents a compelling piece titled "IF I WRITE." As a participant in the poetry category, Hiral's work delves into the intricate dance between truth and fiction, exploring how our perceptions shape the stories we tell ourselves and others. Through eloquent verse, this poem invites readers to reflect on the delicate balance of honesty and imagination in our lives.

About the Work

"IF I WRITE" by Hiral Mankad is an evocative exploration of the human heart's struggle between truth and illusion. The poem is rich with vivid imagery, painting scenes of longing and introspection. Through its lyrical style, the work captures the bittersweet nature of love, portraying it as both a comfort and a deception. The reflective tone and intricate wordplay create a tapestry of emotions, inviting readers to ponder the complex relationship between reality and dreams.

If I write...

Original Submission by Hiral Mankad

IF I WRITE

If I write a lie,

I will crown you my own,

Like rain claiming skies that it has outgrown,

Or like a shard of night,

Pretending it burns,

Borrowing brilliance it never earns,

A quiet theft of a distant flame,

Masking the fire from which it came.

I’ll stitch your name deep in the seams of the soul,

Where the broken fragments,

Pretend to be whole,

And swear every glance was a scripture,

a sign,

That the heavens were weaving

Your fingers with mine.

I’ll craft a world

where the clock-hands stall,

Caught in the grace of your gravity’s thrall,

Where "us" is a fortress that nothing can shake,

And the heart isn't something that’s destined to break.

I’ll paint every silence as comfort,

And peace,

A debt that has finally found its release,

Dressing our distance,

In colours so deep,

That I might believe them before I’m asleep.

But the truth is a hollow and merciless thing,

It strikes like a winter that follows no spring.

It speaks in the voids where your voice should have been,

In the cold logic of "never" and "then."

It knows the cruel math that the lonely must learn:

That fire is a hunger that doesn't return.

The math of the spirit,

is bitter and chill,

How wanting you more,

leaves me wanting you still.

If I etched out the truth

on a page bone-white,

I’d write myself yours in the dead of the night.

Not held in your arms,

But a ghost in,

Your wake,

A confined celestial, bound for your sake.

I’m a shadow

that crawls under doors left ajar,

A prayer whispered low

to a cold, distant star

A name that the lips are too frightened to hold,

A secret that shivers in absence of gold.

I’d claim that I chose you,

rebellious and brave,

As sailors seek to conquer the wave.

But irony drips from the mast of my ship

I was the storm with your name on my lip.

You were the harbor,

the salt-crusted pier,

The shore that dissolved as the vessel drew near.

And every fine word in my practiced address

Was a beggar’s thin veil

for a soul in distress.

Yet oh,

how the lies taste like honey and wine,

They pulse in the throat like a vintage divine.

They flavor the air,

With the promise of spring,

And teach a locked cage,

how to feel like a wing.

In the fever of fables,you love me

Out loud,

With a fire that burns through the thick of the crowd

You trace out "forever" in lines on my skin,

Before the cold silence comes settling in.

But the truth is a mirror,

I cannot outrun,

It fractures in places long hidden from the sun.

I’ve knelt at the altar of your hollow name,

A stone-silent god with no mercy to claim

I’ve fed my devotion,

To embers and

Dust,

A flame that only flickers,

When I am combust.

So I write these lies in a cursive of gold,

With ink-drops of honey for stories untold.

I dress them in velvet,

I make them stand tall,

They never grow weary, they never will fall.

They dance on the paper,

defiant and bright,

To mask the sharp sting,

Of the coming of night

They promise a heaven where I am enough,

Built from the threads,

Of such fragile stuff.

But the truth is an ink that refuses to dry,

A slow-bleeding stain

like a ghost of a cry.

It spills past the margins and seeps through the grain,

To whisper the parts that I cannot explain

That you were the sky,

never meant for the ground,

And I was the echo of a deafening sound.

I was yours in a way that you’ll never design

You were never,

Not ever,

Meant to be mine.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, hosted by Hashtag Kalakar, is a prestigious event that celebrates the art of written expression. It provides a platform for writers and poets from around the world to showcase their talent and creativity. Participants submit their finest works in various categories, including poetry, short stories, and essays, contributing to a vibrant tapestry of global voices and ideas.

We extend our gratitude to Hiral Mankad for sharing "IF I WRITE" with us in the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. This thought-provoking poem is a testament to the power of words and their ability to convey deep emotional truths. Thank you, Hiral, for your contribution to this celebration of literary artistry.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.