Baskadia

Shadow

Poetry

IF HEAVEN HAD VISITING HOURS

If heaven had visiting hours, I would talk to God like I talk to myself, I want to see him shrug when I tell him I'm losing faith. I want to watch him stay quiet for a while, and say, God? What's on your mind? If heaven had visiting hours, I would take a stroll with Jesus when I feel depressed, I want his hands on my shoulder when I pour out my heart so I can look up in his eyes and say, you feel me right? cause friends are supposed to feel each other. If heaven had visiting hours, I wish we cou

SHE

For the girl child whose dream is becoming shattered by the miserable hands of those living around her. For th the girl child who's dying in pain day by day. For the girl child whose molested life has become a daily bread.

"I" a poetry by Khwaab.

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Scent of Hiding

029 Friendly as she is, always gives advice and answers queries. She laughs at every tiny parody, smiles at every little thing---so silly. Her charm was her beauty, a beauty she was insecure and shaky. She attracts souls who need therapy, a normal occurrence of hers every day. Her confidence was seasonal, she's cold but lowkey emotional. But beneath those facades, a stash was hidden, full of worries with no endin'. Midnight was her sweet haven, a time when she was free and in heaven. In the dark

Pink Titles

Inspired by Pink Floyd song titles

Urdu poetry

Ae Dill ki khalish Chal yu he chal

Sunset

019 Oranges are scattered across the horizon, creating hues of gradient light in the zone. On the ocean, it'll come home and will sleep on its bosom. As the day comes to an end, it'll wave goodbye before it descends, leaving the dark as it takes a rest and parks. As the sky got covered in sentiment, like a beauty in predicament; may their hearts be at ease and wrap their day in peace. For although it symbolizes the end, where the day bid farewell and bend; there should also be another beginning,

Dreams of imagination

Dreams of Imagination. In the depths of night, when the world is still, and the stars above, shine with a tranquil thrill. In this peaceful moment, my mind begins to roam, through memories and dreams, that I have yet to know. A world of wonder, awaits beyond the door, of my imagination, where anything is possible and more. From soaring through the clouds, to diving in the sea, my mind takes me on journeys, that set my spirit free. And in these moments, I am filled with pure delight, as I explore

MASK

She is sad, She is depressed She is lost, She is scared..... But everything stays behind that mask.... The mask of a happy, lively child Who smiles everytime With a life full of rainbows And not a shade of grey And then comes that time, When she is all alone, Locked in her personal hell Slowly removing her mask, She cries, she screams, she bawl Until she sleeps No one can understand, They will never But sometimes she wishes That they can feel, That all these smiles are fake, That her eyes had lo

Spot the difference

We can differ but still respect each other

Title: Embracing My Passions Poetry, Badminton, Books, Movies, and Music

the explore of passions that light up my life and inspiration.I have discovered a world of self-expression and comforts. poetry is to express depths of my emotions, thought. And I Enjoy of playing badminton. Books enhance my vocabulary, imagination and inspiration, learning and Movies are my comforters, providing solace teach me about life, I find solace in the embrace of music.transport me to a serene sea, where I can sit on the sand and let my imagination free, comforting me.

شام جو هي پهر

شام جو هي پهر Evening poetry in sindhi #sindhipoetry555

I'm just one (poetry)

They say I'm two, but I'm just one, A mystery to unravel, yet to be undone. I stand before them, flesh and bone, But they see two, a duality unknown. They question my existence, my very being, As if two souls within me are disagreeing. But I assure them, with every breath I take, That I am one, my heart and soul at stake. They point to my contradictions, my every flaw, As if two personas within me are at war. But I tell them, with every word I speak, That I am one, my identity not weak. For I am

Islamic

Achi batye sab tak pohnchye plz thanku

Tere bin season 2 Trending Pakistani drama

The Isolated Porcupine

A poem about little porcupine

By the river side.

By the river side, A peaceful retreat Where a gentle breeze blows And the sun's heat The birds chirping and singing, The trees blowing in the wind, The grass swayed in harmony, The water trickled in a gentle din. The sound of the river soothes my soul, The scent of the grass sweet and bold The sight of the river, so clear and blue, It's beauty like nothing I ever knew. The river side, A place of solace and peace, Where I can go to find A calming release

Poetry

Hard shell, thick skin Slow pace, leave a trail Thick trail, beautiful scenery Companionship of like mind Like wise carry each other through the thick bush Of unchattered, scary, dangerous, beautiful scenery Grow skin and hard shell on the road untraveled, slow leave a trail!

JOURNAL OF A WHORE

It was on a bright weekend early afternoon. As I remained there ringing the doorbell tenderly, somebody pulled my pants. "Mom, mom, convey me." Cried a minuscule sharp voice. I really wanted no heavenly messenger to let me know what its identity was. Obviously, it was the voice of my three years of age little girl. If by some stroke of good luck she knew how chaotic it was lifting her up as she had put on a ton of weight as of late. Perhaps more than her age mates however at that point, a mother's affection wouldn't allow me to overlook the little one, regardless of whether I needed to. "Great sky," I murmured, feigned exacerbation, and scooped her up in my arms.