Even if I die, where will people forget?
Words will testify to my death
The people were shocked when the preaching came
Today the message will give a new divine light
Some of the gusts of wind blow the cheeks
Like this time we will save the bile from the root
We are the children of that night, even in the gifts of the sun
Only cover your children
The sleeves will wear snake necklaces
The people will be sheltered in a new city
By handing over the keys of the city
They will then be given as a gift by the slain soldiers
About the Creator
A Tale of Bittersweet Love
Few events are as moving and eerie in the world of human feeling as the reverberation of an unfulfilled love. That is the core of the melancholy love story—hearts colliding in a rush of desire only to fall apart at the hands of fate's harsh hand. Here, among the broken dreams and unmet promises, is a story that endures the test of time: one of love that is found, treasured, and lost.
By Kazi Hasebul Hasan Naime 4 days ago in Poets
We'z Walking on a Path Ruled By Numbers
This road has felt endless, yet limited; every step tracked. Inching away along this path, I feel trapped. Confined. Left to this narrow passage that may one day amount to something greater. Time is not a concept. Only distance. From start to finish, I laugh and cry and attempt to convince myself that this is worth it. I cannot stray. I must keep going. Every step etched, is a step taken, is measured as more than before. I cannot even recall how I got here. Maybe I don’t even really exist. Just another tick marking off a perceived presence. Of what though? I am just another line drawn. Nothing more, nothing less.
By Oneg In The Arctic3 days ago in Fiction
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