🦋Noorul Khair🦋

Hey there,
          
          My sincere apologies for intruding on your community post, but I couldn't resist sharing something exciting with you all.
          
          To the admin, I'm sorry for any disruption this might cause. I truly appreciate the space you've created here and didn't mean to overstep any boundaries.
          
          Now, onto the exciting part! I'm thrilled to introduce my latest book:
          
          -- (سفرِ دل):    
          
          In the bustling world of success and allure,
          Zohraan Pathan reigns, a CEO pure.
          Amidst towers of dreams, his heart does yearn,
          For a soul to share, a love to discern.
          
          Enter Zara Shah, a spirit untamed,
          In her husband's shadow, she's unnamed.
          For her, life's hues must match her vibe,
          A quest for joy, she'll fiercely imbibe.
          
          "Safar-e-Dil," their journey unfolds,
          Two hearts entwined, as destiny molds.
          With echoes of love bridging the age divide,
          Will their souls unite, or fate deride?
          
          ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡
          
          
          • Age gap
          • Arranged marriage
          • Forced proximity
          • Grumpy x sunshine
          • Clumsy x dramatic
          • Best friend's brother
          • Slow burn
          • Possessive Fl
          • Character development
          • She fell first, but he fell harder
          
          ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡
          
          Oh, are we ready to sneak a peek now? Mi amor, let's enhance this moment together!
          
          :- https://www.wattpad.com/story/357606679-%F0%9D%90%92%F0%9D%90%9A%F0%9D%90%9F%F0%9D%90%9A%F0%9D%90%AB-%F0%9D%90%9E-%F0%9D%90%83%F0%9D%90%A2%F0%9D%90%A5

a small token of kindness ( 21st january 2023 ) 
          
          bruised october, champagne bread; weeping permissions and tightened braids. a mother of brass, windows of pages; ebbs of midnight, divided miseries. 
          
          copper sprain, malachite oxygen; birds of meetings, broken silences. venn of the woods, the wind and the windpipe; foreign vowels, submerged wrinkles. wet crayons, scents of blue; crisp metaphors and pigeon hues. 
          
          palms of desserts, midnight sober; fire that slips, a womb of sonnets. lemonade poems, an annihilating waist; casual grave, a whisper of conclusions. a poet of confessions, a sky of sin; sacred rain, storm antique. 
          
          blurry opals and cigarette soliloquies; swaying septum and a bouquet of tattood ribs. spine of butter, vinegar patio; breastbone shelter, cronus love. white doorstep, a welcome ghost; trees forget leaves, winter shrinks bones. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token token kindness (01st january 2023)  
          
          steadfast sunsets, crooked mornings; lake a crowd of gleaming mournings. lyrics that burn, bones hopeless; tongue of wind, it rarely stays. a future of magma, temple and cityscape; humans among humans, a home bereft. 
          
          a birth that bleeds, a firmament of fleeting wisps; feet smelling of earth, lips a facade, what we appreciate. filigree like rain, a blush of darker reign; summer distorted, desert a burning lace. panaroma of a kaleidoscope, a bard like grackle; pits of doubt and a park of frission. 
          
          jardin de tuileries, seeds of breezes; memory endearments and waves of freedom. satin scents, devoted petals; barricaded branches and canvas of dripping enchantments. convivial music, lily trenchants; reflective denouements, fulgent waterfalls of wisterias. 
          
          violent fears, chalices of secrets; numbing encouragements,  frosted vanilla. oscillating mountains, cloved cessations; tainted vicolos, bricks of dried redolences. parasols of petrichor, labyrinth of moonflowers; tower of desire, rose precipices. keep a smile, with flowers divine; they grow not on well made roads but through the rough womb of mother earth. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness (5th november 2022) 
          
          mouth of honesty, bloody honey; ravenous sobriquets, transparent metaphors. panting edicts, divine passages; unambiguous gravity, chaotic muscles. summer hunger, fermenting sun; mullein breaths, fervent dust. metamorphic roads, joyous courage; naked rage and newborn remembrance. 
          
          exuberant mountains, icy bees; conformed pollen, eclipsed wins. clavicle roots, burning prayers; mediocre comfort, hopeful sorrows. web of confidants, shadows of the known; gentle croaks, hesitant murders. mind a wild animal, a forest caged; auroras and sacrifices, reminiscent repercussions. 
          
          bodies of petunias, breathing skins; blood of stories, water of prison. white cotton whispers, kind demons; alchemy of weaknesses, battling questions. sacred dignity, waves of hormones; rituals of october, bargaining autumn. drop by drop, zest of oranges. 
          
          esprit of mother's milk, primal daughters; lust of earth, a shadow pure. work into exhaustion, round the clock and round the ; there is half of hope alive, half of flesh left to strain. cold is the night, still and mellow; cold is the sun that has wrung itself yellow. perhaps the moon curses its cries, hides in lone pain and white sky, for then it is rarely rejected; unlike storms. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness [16th june 2022] 
          
          meshes of moon scattered on the lake, a poet's grave; a wildfire graceful and kissed by rain. 
          soaked youth in yellow twigs; in boots and noons of malicious spring. 
          sweet as chocolate, bitterness subdued; what is this spring but a death that lures? 
          hands of maidens with cherry blossoms, a cure to the eye and a disease to what lays hidden; mind and magic to the world, a golden lung to the forgotten ones. 
          filled with temper, a baby breath against a caterpillar; white linen doused with earth's cold summer. 
          
          part and pardon, wish and risk; a heart that is prisoned in a cage is not worth a heart that battles. 
          lotuses carved on sour tongues, in places of disasters, of deceit; in cities of citrus. 
          place thy feet in armours of cherries, melted crystals and awakened violins. 
          saccharine sea bulbs, choruses of rainbow dancing as a wizard; aiming for the stars, wrists cuffed by freedom. 
          berries smeared with passionate blood, with nutmeg wounds and hazelnut deaths.
          fill the bowl of the ocean, fill it to the brim; what it lacks is present in drops put into humans. 
          what is motherless requires not a different earth; kindness changes not people, but reveals their raw flesh. 
          
          [kindness does not change people; it reveals their raw flesh, their real identity] 
           #adropofhumanity 
          
          

a small token of kindness (24th November 2021) 
          
          the veteran sun holds close the magenta rage; traces of maternal spine and a shadow of the constricted girl in a woman gulped by slaughterers. raspy words and kites of innocence, demanding notes and pastel shaded envelopes; a finger slashed with extravagant remorse. the morning king wraps a shawl around the human's mind, in a fire, wherein it burns to history and earth. 
          
          upon maturation, the queen of a every knight, flickers its snowflakes over the velvet-like pride of forests and flowers, lovers and lies. many then are torn down to serenity, their skulls exposed to burning tears; the moon an acidic hue. soft parlors of stars etched upon lips of beautiful fury; muddled reflections of an anxious devil and a heart wet with faith's dewiness. 
          
          hands and fingers stuck in cold windows, in the society's concept of a prejudiced prison; wrung by the stomach and hung by the heart, flung into the air like a sea's wild swan. mouths of rain and hearts of manners, time of today and aches of tomorrow; whirled between eternity and death of every second. 
          
          realisation has dissolved into thin earth, minds now poisoned by the devil's apple. run and run while glued to the present, die and die succumbing to the gone nights in the future. vessel of brass brimming with age, bodies and souls molested by suppressed veins. 
          
          we run; we run fast with names, we run as if to catch death, as if to slaughter the days. we run as though to hold the passed breaths, the warm liquid of yesterday in our palms bare and the beats of journeys scratched into nails. we run as the sun does behind the moon,  but never once sit back against the trees of time and watch home unfold with our blood of present smiles. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness (3rd November 2021) 
          
          the coat of night is cloaked with crimson dust, the morning dew a signature of its blooming ashes. when the sun awakens, there is an ancient rhyme that spreads; far from irises, free from eclipses. 
          
          moths relinquish in the deserted divinity, life a segment of luxury and wellness. winters brace the emptiness, the soul's hand caresses the twigs of aged pain. skies are dampened with a half of the earth's oceans and the three thousand tears that collide with the moon; like its shadow that glides over the sunflower. 
          
          the brush of baby breaths against the buried memories is similar to the walk of the widow; laden with heaviness irrespective of the bad or good in them. to forget the last summer is a tragedy, to lean into it a forced responsibility. 
          
          where there is monstrosity, there is awareness. everything right is in simplicity; the world a mesh of celebrated complications. crevasses exist, fear a dynamic of every body. what we are most afraid of we must become in order to earn a stature of equilibrium. 
          
          to breathe, one must set aside the burden of living. allow life to be fueled with little. relief is found in emptiness, in nakedness, in raw depth. 
          
          like the sun that chooses to appreciate the littleness of the Earth, we must allow our hearts to explore the chaos of garnet and grapevines. for after all, have our hearts not been moulded but to be little glass ochres of residual sunsets? 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness (21st October 2021) 
          
          in the extinct field of companionship, the sun lingers closer towards its dry veins, in the intense kicks of homesickness. contaminated laws and deserted rules wrap around the resident fear; suffocation pressing down upon the disquiet throat. 
          
          where there is solitude, there is loneliness; and an escape from the poisoned apple is only but a bite of it. the sky swallows the consciousness, the screaming prevalent of the moon, of the crying of its bare existence. the well stares at the violent emotion, the enchantment of life, far from itself, into the horizon. 
          
          as children, as innocent droplets of rainfall, all they sweetly devour is the fall; the drop, the crash. the aura of the water glazed grass, the poetry of the winter dressed maiden, the sorrows of the nightingales' tale, the quivering of the sea kelps running dry. to them, like the pleasant alphabets of letters, life is only beautiful, no matter how many clouds form. 
          
          then, one ponders, what changes as we grow? all world becomes is a harbour of endless crucifixion. with that in mind, the sun has been straining itself for generations, glowing and glowing. has it not suffered the negativity? why has it remained fixed like a cemetery? 
          
          life is incredibly dark; like winter has struck for an eternity. however, does winter not have warm mugs of coffee and chestnut lollies? stretched hours and rivers of snowflake crystals? dampened cheeks and swollen tulips?
          
          there is beauty everywhere to an eye that searches. like the child that digs through the surface with fingers ageless. and the sun that peeks through the alleys of ghosted towns.
          
          have you lost yourself in the wound, gaping and huge? allow the sun, the warrior, to breathe into you soft precautions. allow it to fold the wound into a gleaming sunset, like the one it makes with the sky. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness (20th October 2021) 
          
          the sun is a creature of the resurrected sea; of the winds that had their voices surrendered to the chrysanthemum wings. the jasmines of the lost dictionaries like unbelievers from the stories of the Holy books. the clear distinction of the heirs from the poignant misadventures; a thread of moist victory. 
          
          and the moon is but a maiden of the bedouins, fueled with marbled rain. it appears as it wishes, in cracked promises of blue or in snowballed dates of palms. in it, everything of life is appreciated. the spikes of deserts and the ugliness of the doves of the soil. but in the cold, in its weather, there is no renaissance. it neglects the one who suffers from the ice; their cries deaf to its crooked smile. 
          
          the night swallows the moon, like the earth bones of the survivors. the sun manages to flip within the dusky sky and retain its tenderness, its colour. roads can be hauled away like tides, and emotions can be wrung about starlight. 
          
          the world is a mesh, one that filters through every ache. if you wish to survive, burn in yourself, light the moon up for fire. the sun lives because it burns passionately, no truce allowed. to live, one must be of the dying, if not the dead. 
          
          therefore the sun sinks into your horizon dripping with vermillion shadows, carves dreams from the dead stones and travels into your mind like the greasy marmalade stuck in your throat. 
          
          gather yourself and burn. the world fears the fire and the dying breath; like the branches that cover the sky after the sun. maintain the balance, burn and glow just as the sun. and ignite your darkness with the ashes, just like moon that reflects in your blood. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness (9th October 2021) 
          
          there is so much in us and so much we can be, like the cosmos that has been under servitude and the black hole that consumes it. there is within the sun a similar attitude; it walks the cobblestone lanes with eyes of the deceased. melted paints it wants to embellish upon the stars and pluck out the shine of its rays to decorate the leaves of autumn. 
          
          the earth moves solemnly, under the strict awareness of the watchful crowd, and it breaths yellow marigolds in hopes of being surrounded by a tree of hope. in it, on it, everywhere around it; lack of appropriate loneliness. sheer visibility of the city lights, blindness to the one from the heavens above the sky.
          
          what an agony, what a pain. jewellery like ice slitting the throat. flowers boiled in acid. the world a place of slaughter. 
          
          life is one, but lives within it many. if we choose to go beyond the doomed number, we exhaust to dust. ankles tied with ropes of responsibilities and hands with households. where rivalry thrives, it is a place of legends. the kind which carries sins and buries the oppressed. 
          
          however what of those who defy the rules? of those who, regardless of the consequences, accept war? 
          they become the kissable sea, the immortal air, the glorious sky and the soft universe.
          
          be the sun, the stars and the sky all together. if they admire you from afar, it is because they each see themselves in you.
           #adropofhumanity