Baskadia

Here

The main stage of all levels of the universe is the visible world. No matter how low, no matter how dirty, no matter how despicable, this is where the lives of beings are determined. This is where history is. Here comes the scene. This is where it comes into play. This is where the proof is. No matter how much everything is intertwined and full of chaos, this is where the truth always tries to become a reality. All knowledge, all ideas, all hopes, all love and aspirations, will have no value if

Beauty

This is the 2nd Poem I have ever written. Same age as I wrote 'Life As A Poet.' So I'd have been 13 or 14 when I wrote this.

Short poem for bird lovers

In skies so wide, the birds take flight, Their feathers painted with dawn's soft light. With melodies sweet, they serenade the day, In nature's orchestra, they proudly play. Their wings of grace, a sight to behold, In every color, a story's told. In trees they nest, in freedom they soar, Birds of wonder, we forever adore. From sparrows humble to eagles grand, In every land, they make their stand. Oh, bird lovers' hearts, forever they'll sing, For in these creatures, such joy they bring.

When We Fall

In the face of darkness, we stand tall, For hope is a beacon that conquers all, It's the strength to rise when we fall, In the grand symphony of life's call. When storms rage fierce and clouds obscure, Hope's the anchor, steadfast and sure, With each challenge, it grows more pure, A force within, forever to endure. In the depths of despair, it takes flight, Guiding us through the darkest night, With hope in our hearts, we'll ignite, A future where everything's set right. So hold onto hope with a

The Art of storytelling: captivating hearts and minds

Storytelling is rigid art engaged by the telling/creator that essentially reanimates the feelings of thrill, emotion and empowerment. Its been mis used some times in our world today. but, it stands to be the most powerful form of art and theatrics.

شعر مرگ

مرگ، ای دوست ساکت و آرام، به سوی همه می‌آیی، بی پایان. نفس و زندگی را می‌دزدی، پایان مبارزات، درد و زحمت می‌باشی. لمس تو سرد است و آغوشت عمیق، در آغوشت، همه رازها نگهداری می‌کنی. به سوی جوانان و پیران می‌آیی، لمس تو، هر ضعیف و شجاعی را احساس می‌کند. تو عزیزان ما را می‌بری، تنها خاطرات و اشک را به جا می‌گذاری. تو جهان‌ها را شکسته و قلب‌هایمان را می‌شکنی، خانواده‌ها و دوستان را از هم جدا می‌کنی. اما شاید در آغوش تو پیدا کنیم، آرامشی که گاه سخت است بیابیم. شاید در آرامش کامل استراحت کنیم، و غم‌های

قهوة (coffee)

كنز لا يمكن إسكاته، ستختنق عندما لا تهتم تلك الحلاوة التي يبحث عنها الذواقة، العبق الذي لا يمكن لأحد أن يضاهيه، مرارته هي رائحته الطبيعية كما لو أنه مشروب من الينابيع الساخنة - يتم خلطه بملعقة فضية من شيفا، مليء في كأس أفروديت الجميلة - كانت تحفة من قبل الآلهة، كجوهرة تلك الطعمة الغنية؛ لن ينتهي ولن يتلاشى عن ألسنة البشر، إنها خيال تذكره لا يتمنى أحد الاستيقاظ منه، بينما تنتشر نكهاته في عقول العقول، حتى إله الحكمة يشتهي تناوله سيتم العثور عليه دائمًا في مطبخ هيرا، حيث يشتكي زيوس عندما لا يُقَدَّ

"صوت الحب الصامت"

تجلس وتشاهد من بعيد، قلبها يفيض مثل جرة. عيناها تتبعه حيثما يذهب، ولكن شفتيها مغلقتان ولا يعلم أحد. تشتاق لأن تخبره بما تشعر، أن تخبره أن قلبها حقيقي. ولكن الخوف والشك يعيقانها، مما يترك حبها في نقص مستمر. تحلم باللحظات التي يمكنهما مشاركتها، بالضحك والحب والرعاية اللطيفة. ولكن في ذهنها، إنها مجرد خيال، لأنها لا تستطيع أن تعترف بحبها، ترون. قلبها يئن مع كل يوم يمر، فهي تخفي مشاعرها، خائفة جدًا من القول. تتساءل إذا كان يشعر بالمثل، أم إن حبها هو في النهاية عبث. ولكن حتى لو لم تتحدث قلبها أبدًا، ح

"Whispers of the Unseen Tapestry"

In realms unseen, where dreams take flight, A tapestry woven with celestial light, Whispers of stars and secrets untold, A symphony of wonders, yet to unfold. Beneath the moon's ethereal glow, Where time stands still, and galaxies flow, Unveiling mysteries, both strange and rare, An enigmatic dance in cosmic air. Ethereal beings, with wings unfurled, Guardians of realms, ancient and surreal, They navigate through dimensions unseen, Where imagination reigns, vibrant and keen. In this realm of bou

Rain filled with tears 😢

In the pouring rain, tears streaming down, Silent screams echo without a sound. From the depths of your being, a cry released, A wound unseen, pain never ceased. When your heart plummets, heavy and low, I understand your storm, the tempest's blow. I know your melody, your soul's refrain, Though your story's secrets may remain. Diverse souls we bear, unique in our frame, Yet intertwined, connected all the same. For in shared experiences, we unite, Embracing the human journey's light.

The poor grape seller boy(poem)

In the scorching heat, a boy stands tall, Selling grapes, his dreams he recalls. A humble soul, with calloused hands, He weaves his way through life's vast lands. Each grape he holds, a story untold, Of resilience and hope, so bold. With every cluster, he shares a taste, Of perseverance and strength embraced. Beneath the sun, his spirit shines bright, A symbol of courage in the harshest plight. Through dust and toil, he perseveres, A silent poet amid life's tears. In his presence, a lesson we fi

love

In the realm of love, my heart took flight, A melody of emotions, pure and bright. Boundless passion, like an eternal flame, Love's enchantment, I can never tame. With every beat, my heart whispers your name, A symphony of longing, a burning flame. In your embrace, I find solace and peace, Love's sweet surrender, a divine release. Your touch, a gentle breeze upon my skin, Ignites a fire, a love that's never been. In your eyes, I see a reflection of my soul, A love story written, destined to unfo

In the realm of stars, where dreams reside

In the realm of stars, where dreams reside,

I am always deeply moved by the beauty and resilience of people with black skin.

In the tapestry of ebony hues, A symphony of grace and resilience, The people of ebony skin, A portrait of strength and brilliance. Their souls adorned with rich history, Stories etched in every line and curve, Through struggles and triumphs, They radiate a beauty that preserves. From the rhythm of their laughter, To the wisdom in their eyes, Their spirit dances with resilience, Underneath vast African skies.

Africa, Africa, Africa

In the realm of Africa, morning spins Beauty illuminates it from night till dawn In the heart of this colorful continent My beloved, my cherished, is my treasure Day and night, I behold the beauty of nature

IMRAN Khan

Nice

Nice

The last wolf

Beneath the fading moon's soft glow, The last wolf treads where shadows flow. A sentinel of ages old, In tales of wilderness, its story told. Majestic spirit, fierce and wild, Guardian of the night, undefiled. Legends woven through the trees, Whisper of strength in every breeze. Lone survivor of a primal land, Pawprints etched in the shifting sand. Eyes that hold the secrets deep, In twilight's realm, its vigil to keep. Oh, last wolf, your howl shall fade, But in our hearts, your memory's laid.

Not super hero

In capes of ordinary guise, No super strength, nor soaring skies. Just an everyday heart that beats, Facing life's challenges on its feet. No powers grand, no cape that flows, Yet within, a strength that glows. I'm not a hero of comic lore, But in life's battles, I'll explore. With flaws and fears that I embrace, I'll stand my ground, find my place. No superhuman feats to show, Just determination that continues to grow.

flowers in autumn

In autumn's gentle embrace they bloom, Flowers of every color, dispelling gloom, A symphony of petals, nature's art, Whispering tales from the heart. Amidst the golden leaves, they sway, A dance of beauty in the sun's last ray, Bold and fragile, a paradox so true, Capturing time's essence in every hue. The air grows crisp, the days grow cool, Yet the flowers flourish, defying the rule, For in this season of change and decay, They remind us that beauty never fades away.