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ya..i dont sketch anymore..its been like 2 months now..that i've stopped..very nice... but avoid human faces :/
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ya..i dont sketch anymore..its been like 2 months now..that i've stopped..very nice... but avoid human faces :/
Beautiful peotryanother one ...title...? help me give it one....its an anti-terror poem
blood dripping from shinning sword
and the bewitched laughs echoed hard
crushing the innocence of their shouts
again,a cruel attempt to my country terror-scarred
but don't you worry
my dear brothers and sisters
we are together
to oppose these mischief misters
those who have fallen will rise again
till then,we can torture them using our pen,
a tool sharper than their swords
more effective are the words
don't close your eye on the world'
don't feel down and blue
i know this is an awful place
but there are many who care for you
have faith in yourselves
don't worry if they have power
and what if wealth?
the things they are missing
are faith,courage and love
together we can make a difference
and develop terror resistance
those soldiers,
fought bravely while you hid,
inside your comfy pits,
he suffered the bullets,
pass through his chest,
while you had fun,which for you was must!
pity on you if you still say
i only care for my family on this day!
Shah... Rutzaba Al-Anoud Ibtizam fille spéciale and others
thanksBeautiful peotry
Tbh, I'm bad at naming poems myself but ummm... how about 'Voice for a soldier'?
did u write it urself..gr88..MY MESSY ROOM
My mom always tells me to clean my room,
As it’s like a temple of doom,
Cloths and paint everywhere,
Come inside if you dare.
My mom came with my bag,
"Clean your room so i don’t have to nag!"
She says I m so lazy,
But clean up simply sounds crazy,
It’s all dirty from a long time,
I would be behind bars if laziness was a crime,
I just like to sit and watch TV,
With hands around a cup of coffee,
But I look at the trash bin with,
Over flooded stuff in it,
And the dirt stuck to it.
Would cleaning it make it a better place,
I doubt it; I would only get a blackened face.
May be, I should cave, and
Clean my mess
But the time it will take is not less.
thanks...ya...just fifteen mins agodid u write it urself..gr88..
oh...sorry this one i wrote long agodid u write it urself..gr88..
no needthanks
View attachment 29397
thanx alot for ur tag..i dont have anything to post now..i have my old sketches..although i dont sketch now,,here r some..View attachment 29398
another one ...title...? help me give it one....its an anti-terror poem
blood dripping from shinning sword
and the bewitched laughs echoed hard
crushing the innocence of their shouts
again,a cruel attempt to my country terror-scarred
but don't you worry
my dear brothers and sisters
we are together
to oppose these mischief misters
those who have fallen will rise again
till then,we can torture them using our pen,
a tool sharper than their swords
more effective are the words
don't close your eye on the world'
don't feel down and blue
i know this is an awful place
but there are many who care for you
have faith in yourselves
don't worry if they have power
and what if wealth?
the things they are missing
are faith,courage and love
together we can make a difference
and develop terror resistance
those soldiers,
fought bravely while you hid,
inside your comfy pits,
he suffered the bullets,
pass through his chest,
while you had fun,which for you was must!
pity on you if you still say
i only care for my family on this day!
Shah... Rutzaba Al-Anoud Ibtizam fille spéciale and others
thanx..ya i know..i did that when i was STUPID..but now am practicing on sketching waterfalls etc..wow..mashallah awesome!
i advice: avoid making faces plz..its againts d teaching of islam!
thanx..ya i know..i did that when i was STUPID..but now am practicing on sketching waterfalls etc..
There's a fire somewhere,
somewhere deep within,
the cold emotions,
now's the time to despair the voice,
yet the wisdom doesn't allow,
In a hunt of wisdom,
the heart just passes by the storm,
the storm of screaming silences,
the storm of dry tears,
the storm of brave fears.
Every breath is short and numb,
but the pen just keeps working,
for the work my soul feels for.
Ink has no more got a color,
yet some beings can have a sight of it,
Desire is burning within everywhere,
there is definitely a fire somewhere........ /
Alone...
Walking through the thorns of life,
Thorns of life and the bed of death..the bed of roses.
Waddling tears, moistening the pillow....
Drowning in the abyss of shattering emotions...
Piercing the cacophony of humiliations....
Looking back for murdered breaths...
Seeking for a zephyr of bliss....
Walking through the thorns of life...
I've finally reached....to death.
A marriage of satisfaction and fear....
All the way to here ......... ..... ... .. . Alone.
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