Ray Rizwan
Bio
Stories (50/0)
The Birds song
Once upon a time, in a quaint little village nestled amidst rolling green hills, there lived a young girl named Lily. Lily had a special bond with nature, particularly the birds that filled the air with their melodious songs. Every morning, she would wake up to the enchanting chorus of birdsong that echoed through her bedroom window.
By Ray Rizwan12 months ago in Poets
The Chronicles of Eldoria
In the realm of Eldoria, a world veiled in mysticism and enchantment, magic flowed through every living being and mythical creatures roamed the lands. It was a realm where dreams intertwined with reality, where supernatural elements danced in harmony with the natural world. This is the tale of a young adventurer named Elysia, who found herself thrust into a wondrous journey through this magical realm.
By Ray Rizwan12 months ago in Motivation
The Whispering Shadows
Once upon a moonlit night, in the sleepy town of Ravenswood, an eerie presence gripped the air. It was a place steeped in legends of the supernatural, where the townsfolk whispered of unexplained phenomena and lingering spirits. Among the residents was a young woman named Amelia, whose life would soon be consumed by a chilling and terrifying ordeal.
By Ray Rizwan12 months ago in Horror
Through the Lens of Friendship
Once upon a time in the small town of Willowbrook, there lived two best friends, Lily and Emily. They had been inseparable since childhood, sharing laughter, secrets, and countless adventures. Their friendship was a beacon of light that brightened their lives.
By Ray Rizwan12 months ago in Families
Golden Light
Baby I'm a golden light I'm a golden light I'm lighting in the night..... To give people light, smile Whom I love whom I like ... Like glass in million pieces I'm broken inside... I'm a golden light ... Look I'm glowing in the dark. I'm lost in my past, some memories and some scars... I'm pretending to shine so brightly... I'm a golden light...
By Ray Rizwan12 months ago in Poets
Love-inspired writing
A couple of days prior, I had an curiously discussion with my companion, Randi Gray Kristensen, who educates first year recruit composition at George Washington College. Midway through our discourse almost AI, I suddenly realized that she was drawing nearer the subject as a researcher, and I was coming at the issue as a author. "In this wild of data," as Randi put it, she was concerned that understudies would turn in papers they had replicated from Poet and pass it off as on the off chance that they had composed it. Randi emphasized that she instructed her understudies how to define a proposal, assemble actualities not subject to AI visualizations, make inductions based on the evidence, and find coherent conclusions based on sound premises. This is often why in scholastic circles, researchers like Randi inquire questions such as "Who did the research and for whom? How was the investigate conducted, and who paid for it? Did trustworthy researchers within the field survey the comes about?
By Ray Rizwan12 months ago in Families
Tastes Like Chicken
When was the final time you ate crow? I cruel metaphorically, of course, as the carrion-eating crow is for the most part regarded an unappetizing nourishment, indeed specified Scripturally as an creature that ought to not be devoured. Truly! I'm talking approximately those candidly hard-to-swallow minutes that get your stomach churning and take off you second-guessing yourself well into the small hours of the morning. We've all been there, but I tend to put myself in a position to eat crow like it's a culinary delicacy.
By Ray Rizwan12 months ago in Beat
worst moments
That toast, known as “the Watcher’s Toast,” in a fantastical world I frequently type in in, is implied to energize reflection and tranquility in one’s recollections. Envision in the event that after you passed on, you had to remember your most exceedingly bad memory for endlessness. That would be hell, wouldn’t it? But in case you think around it, recollections are continuously associated, associated by ever long strings which always remind us of each other memory. So, in the event that you take the time and reflect and keep in mind how your most exceedingly bad, darkest, most soul-crushing minutes inevitably produced you into enormity, remembering them wouldn’t be so terrible. That’s why this playlist, which I made to tune in to on my final drive ever domestic from college, is titled, “worst memories.”
By Ray Rizwan12 months ago in Humans
The Sickness
I sit here tasting my coffee, looking at the mountains cresting through trees, chewing on a address I keep returning to. I appreciate bravery, I continuously have. Doubtlessly with the rise of super legend motion pictures, I am to accept that most of society too appreciates bravery. In spite of the fact that, it looks exceptionally diverse from Batman thumping out offenders within the night. Bravery for most of us, could be a unobtrusive choice in a moment which will truly as it were be noticed by ourselves.
By Ray Rizwan12 months ago in Poets
The Moors' Heather
Her title was Heather, just like the heather that was scattered perpetually over the excellent fields. The fields of Dartmoor called to Heather, both in her waking hours and in her dreams. They beckoned as she rested within the comfortable bed that had once had a place to her guardians, and each morning as she stirred, the scent of heather beside a fine fog appeared to penetrate the room. She knew well sufficient, in any case, that these things were only the remainders of her dreams that waited so.
By Ray Rizwan12 months ago in Fiction