Baskadia

New month

In the realm of time, a cycle begins anew, As the old month departs, the new month breaks through. With each rise of the sun, a fresh chapter unfolds, An unwritten canvas, waiting to be told. September arrives with a gentle embrace, A month of transition, a change in its pace. Leaves whisper secrets in the autumnal breeze, Colours of amber and gold adorn the trees. The days grow shorter, the nights a bit colder, As nature prepares for its grand transformation older. In this tapestry of time, a c

Nature' Poem

Amidst the whispers of the trees so tall, Nature's symphony plays, a gentle call. Rivers dance with shimmering glee, Underneath the sky's vast tapestry. Mountains rise like ancient kings, Guardians of secrets that nature brings. Fields of flowers, a vibrant hue, Painted by a hand that's pure and true. The sun dips low, a golden fire, Painting the horizon with colors to inspire. Stars emerge, a sparkling sight, Guiding the wanderer through the night. In forests deep, secrets softly reside, Where

Different Worlds

A poem that brings to light the different worlds that we live in. Taken from different worlds from the Songs of Lexicon.

Poem

Sunset's glow, a sight to see A sky ablaze, a symphony Of colors, warm and bright Fading into the night Clouds of pink and orange hues Majestic beauty, nature's muse The world below in soft repose As daylight fades, so it goes A moment captured, brief but true A fleeting beauty, renewed anew In memories and in the heart A work of art, never to depart

Strength of Mind

A powerful force, yet so hard to find The strength that lies deep within our minds It's a state of being that's so divine The courage to stand up and be kind The power of choice, it's never too late To stand up and make your life great It's in the moments we have to decide That we can choose to be strong inside The strength of will, it sets us apart To strive for our goals and our hearts It's the light that guides us through the night To keep our spirits shining bright The strength of hope that

Poet Lukman Nurudeen Biography

BIOGRAPHY OF LUKMAN NURUDEEN ADENIYI Born (on 10th January, 2002) and bred in Oyo State, Nigeria, into a devout Yoruba Muslim household, Lukman Nurudeen Adeniyi, aka Lonia, is an internationally acclaimed litterateur and activist who earnestly discusses and advocates sustainable peace, human rights, democracy and justice, education, health and economic welfare for humankind, and also the existence and privilege of black race. Even though Yoruba is his language, English became his major literary

Think of Me

Remember me as a pen in your hand— You hold so I can stand, You guide me so I can walk; Persistent in letters and talk. Think of me as a tree— I grow as I stay with thee, To bear much fruit for you and me, I'll be still and be so merry. Imagine me as a bed— Lie in me if you're tired, A good sleep is all you need In you I'm perfectly suited. Meditate me as a waterfall— Consistently flowing but peaceful, Much relaxing and so cool, A company with you so meaningful.

Vengeful Flames

Burning bright with fury and hate, Revenge consumes me, it's my fate. I'll make them pay for what they've done, My anger rises like the sun. I'll plot and plan, I'll bide my time, Until the moment is just right. Then I'll strike with all my might, And watch them suffer in my sight. No mercy will I show to those, Who wronged me and caused my woes. Their pain will be my sweetest pleasure, As I exact my vengeful measure. But as the flames of revenge die down, I'll be left with nothing but a frown.

The Perfect Rainbow

I stood watching out my window As the nighttime became dismissed The clouds and sky started out to glow There was no location now to hide caught among the floating clouds The solar’s rays exchange and streak ...

Tells a truth too hard to bear

A poem written by an anonymous poet...

Bring me the Goddess

I called Theia But the one who showed up was Nyx I called Euphrosyne But the one who showed up was Oizys Whom should I call? Here in the times that I'm alone I want to go back But what should I find when I returned?

Contentment

Contentment Brings Joy A sweet serenity it brings In the midst of daily tasks Without it, life suffers Contentment gives you strength It touches the very core Leaves you peaceful and whole And open for more Contentment brings joy Peaceful bliss awaits It's found in everyday moments Here we truly do create Contentment renews the soul Sparking joy through and through It's such a special feeling You know only its true

THE SINFUL POEM.

The poem should be sorry to itself. It is a felony to fall in love and loved as one of many options. The poem and I should not fall in love, It is a short cut to grave and no human being can be trusted. A sin to a poem is to show that God is the source of all problems to his people. In additional to we have no one to trust at all.

Treasure: Hymn of the Birds

The subject of this poem is nature. I also used metaphors throughout the content of this poem. E.g..."The hymn of the birds The whoosh of the rivers The breeze of the mountain dews These are nature’s offer of a captivating paradise "

Anger

I have taught myself to forgive my offenders so I let go of anger. Though they may not have remorse nor apologize for harm they set on me but I have learn to forgive and let go. Anger is like uncontrollable fire the only way to stop it is to burn out. When let burns it acts like a laser with a strong radiation that is poisonous. Anger is infection, it cause harm. Anger is very flammable like a fire, destroying nature to pave for dire, So that weeds like hatred can bloom. The best way to burn out

The poem

The Rainy Day

Ode to Nature's Beauty

Amidst the tapestry of time, so grand, A realm of wonder where life expands, Nature's canvas, vibrant and free, A symphony of beauty for all to see. Mountains rise, their heads in the sky, Whispering secrets to clouds passing by, Majestic trees, arms reaching high, Tell stories to the wind as it rushes nigh. Rivers dance in a shimmering trance, Carving paths through earth's expanse, Their liquid notes a soothing song, Guiding all creatures along. Oh, the oceans with depths untold, A universe wit

Poetry

Poetry (derived from the Greek poiesis, "making"), also called verse,[note 1] is a form of literature that uses aesthetic and often rhythmic[1][2][3] qualities of language − such as phonaesthetics, sound symbolism, and metre − to evoke meanings in addition to, or in place of, a prosaic ostensible meaning. A poem is a literary composition, written by a poet, using this principle. The Parnassus (1511) by Raphael: famous poets recite alongside the nine Muses atop Mount Parnassus. Poetry has a long

Joyous Sunday

The bells of Sunday ring With a joy that's all their own, And the birds in the trees above Seem to join in the song. The sun is shining bright, And the air is fresh and sweet, And the sky is a cloudless blue, And the world is at its feet. The children are out to play, And the flowers are in bloom, And the world is a happy place On this joyous Sunday morning. The cares of the week are gone, And the heart is light and free, And the soul is filled with peace On this joyous Sunday.

Hate's Painful Grasp

Shrouds of darkness blocking out the light An unrelenting scourge with a voracious appetite It's cobweb of hatred entangles our hearts Devouring us piece by piece, slowly tearing us apart. We see it in the streets and we feel it in our fears It is a feeling that brings pain and tears We can't ignore it, try as we might As its powerful grip keeps us in its sight No matter how hard our efforts, hatred won't be quashed It will continue looming large until our trembling hearts have crashed So may we