Poetry

Is it true that sad people make the most bomb poetry ?

Sometimes In life we are considering some person is our own.
Sometimes when that person is seperated from us, it feels like a dream.
It's understandable that sometimes the whole world is a darkness.
But know that after darkness there is morning.

"Between Wanting and Fear"

I reach with open hands,
yet my feet refuse to move.

I chase my dreams,
while fear arrives before I do.

The thing I long for
is the very thing that frightens me most.

Not because I do not want it,
but because every hope
carries the shadow of loss.

My heart whispers,
"Go."

My mind replies,
"What if everything falls apart?"

So I remain,
caught between desire and fear,
punishing myself
with choices never made.

Perhaps one day,
I will learn that courage
is not the absence of fear,
but the decision to keep walking
even when fear walks beside me.

Everything ALLAH has created is beautiful 💜

But my goodness, the smiling face of my beloved ♥️ wallah, it is truly something else 🤍

A N U M 🫀

One day, someone will love me the way I always deserved. ❤️"

𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦, “𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦? 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦?”

𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥, “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨.”

Idk how much I used to like you,
All I know is I can live without you.
Yet I feel this restlessness, do you know?
I heard people cannot bear separation ،
Yet why I don't have that fear.
When someone else looks at you, why is my heart still calm?

How do I tell the sea that I’m drowning on land, and the waves I’ve longed for now live inside my chest.

The day you left the sunset was colourless and so was my heart.

A letter

When death comes,
will it be kind to me?

What if it comes
dark with anger and hatred?

Or smiling,
soft and reassuring?

What if it is painful,
slow and forceful?

Or brief,
gentle and peaceful.

I pray
it is the latter.
I smile
in remembrance of the Almighty.

Then it looks at me kindly,
with a soft smile,
and suddenly I feel calm.

I take its hand.
I don't even realize
I am dead.
I look back
and see my body—
still smiling.
...
I cannot find the courage
to continue this letter.
My hand trembles
as I write.

~MKA

Dance from Dusk and Dawn

When she gets red in the face,
the sun takes away her light,
just as he reflects her grace,
the moon chases sun’s flight;
she shies below with bait,
and he grows more bright,
when she pretends ‘ts too late,
when he portends her right:
she bursts from behind to play,
he smiles and fades away for the night,
and gives back her light, his way,
and hopes for a date, a dance in due time.