Poetry

We are destined to live like this, suspended between a closeness that never truly ends and a departure that never fully occurs. We carry unspoken words in our hearts, postponing farewells each time as if staying were still possible. We move on with weary souls; we are not the ones who have arrived.
Nor are we the ones who left; we merely stand in the middle, counting the absences and waiting for what will never return.

I kept asking to look into her eyes... She thinks I'm just playing around with her... She doesn't know I want to talk.

There is a Japanese legend that says:
If you missed the bus, perhaps you avoided the accident. If you were rejected, perhaps you were spared from the wrong place. If they left, perhaps they made room for who is to come. The universe protects you in ways that, at first, seem like bad luck. Trust the detour.

Your smile turns my darkest nights to light,
Your voice makes every moment feel just right.

When you’re near, the world feels warm and new,
Every little dream seems possible with you.

My heart whispers your name with every beat,
Because loving you makes my life complete. ❤️

Repost from Mr. ⁨@Ch91601296⁩ 
Thanks for beautiful poetry 🌹

⁨⁨@Arien1076⁩⁩ <CUSTOM_BOLD>only for you, my bestie</CUSTOM_BOLD>

<CUSTOM_BOLD>I found a little heaven in your eyes, my dear. A place where all my worries softly disappear, my dear.</CUSTOM_BOLD>

<CUSTOM_BOLD>The wind may change direction, seasons come and go. But my heart beats only for you year after year, my dear.</CUSTOM_BOLD>

<CUSTOM_BOLD>Your laughter is a melody no song can ever match. Its echo fills my lonely soul with cheer, my dear.</CUSTOM_BOLD>

<CUSTOM_BOLD>The moon asks me each night why I smile alone. I tell it that your memory is near, my dear.</CUSTOM_BOLD>

<CUSTOM_BOLD>If love is just a journey, then walk beside me always. For every road seems beautiful when you are here, my dear.</CUSTOM_BOLD>

<CUSTOM_BOLD>And when the final page of life is turned one day. I’ll write your name upon it crystal clear, my dear. ❤️🌹</CUSTOM_BOLD>

“ A beautiful person is not always Good , but a Good person is beautiful. “

• -( forgot where i saw this one )

The world didn't hurt me when I wore a mask of cruelty, but rather when I was pure of heart, opening doors honestly and giving others kindness without expecting anything in return. Only those moments of kindness left hidden scars within me, as if goodness in this era is rewarded with pain.

Fragrance of the Divine: Becoming Nothing to Taste the Beauty of Allah

I was chasing light in broken mirrors of desire,
until the world taught me—everything I held was dust in disguise.
And in the silence between my pride and my pain,
I heard a whisper not of the world, but beyond it.

“Indeed, in the remembrance of Allah do hearts find rest.” (Qur’an 13:28)
Not in possession, not in praise, not in becoming seen—
but in becoming still enough to be found.

I tasted life in colours that faded too fast,
sweetness that turned bitter in the mouth of attachment,
until I learned: what is created cannot complete what is eternal.

So I bowed—not just my body, but my illusion of self,
and in that bowing, I began to rise.

“O mankind, you are in need of Allah.” (Qur’an 35:15)
Need—not weakness, but truth unveiled.
For only the empty vessel can be filled with the Ocean.

I became nothing, and in that nothingness
I was no longer weighed by ego, nor dressed in illusion.
Just a heart, bare and trembling,
finally open to the fragrance of the Real.

And then I understood:

Beauty is not what the eye collects,
but what the soul recognizes when it remembers its origin.
Love is not what the self grasps,
but what the heart receives when it lets go of everything else.

“He is the First and the Last, the Seen and the Unseen.” (Qur’an 57:3)
A truth so vast it humbles all definitions of self.

So I return—again and again—to nothing,
because only nothing can carry the weight of the Infinite.

I'm thinking about December.
My heart is set to it.

Something.... will happen in December

maybe a story begins,
maybe a story ends.
A life will start… or it won’t.
But if love is written,
two souls will meet
and finally dance.

We met as if fate had erred
In bringing us together for a single moment
Then it quickly corrected
Its mistake with separation
As if we were a beautiful possibility
That was not destined
To be fulfilled, leaving
In the heart a scar
That will neither heal nor be forgotten