Slave of Allah سُبْحَانَهُ وَتَعَالَى‎

A Sincere Advice for Us Muslim Authors: I pray to Allah for this advice to be beneficial for everyone. 
          
          Shahawaat (Desires) - usually a person knows what they are doing is wrong, whether it's in Haram relationship, Haram food or whether it's looking at something Haram. They know what they are doing is wrong but their heart is attached to it.
          
          Is this not the case with us authors? Subhan Allah. 
          
          We know free mixing is Haram yet we write it. We know any relationship between male and female is prohibited before marriage yet we write it. We know we should observe Hijab and all it's conditions yet we go against it. 
          
          My dear Muslim authors please pay heed, titling a story as 'Islamic Story' or 'Muslim Story' or adding tags such as 'Islamic' does not make that book a Muslim or an Islamic book. The content within it makes it. 
          
          We give our book a Muslim name or description yet our cover shows an image of naked woman from behind. Is this Muslim at all? Is this not disrespect of Islam? May Allah forgive us. 
          
          My dear Muslim authors, remember the Speech of your Lord: "He [i.e., man] utters no word except that with him is an observer prepared [to record]." (50:18).
          
          Everything we say, write, do and convey is being recorded. The two scribers leave nothing except they write every single thing. 
          
          Writing a book by staying within the boundaries of Islam will only benefit you as well as your readers, however, writing a book without being concerned with Islamic rulings or commands of Allah will benefit no one. It may benefit us in this world but what about our Hereafter? Are we really going to trade our Hereafter for this temporary world? 
          
          Last but not least, writing 'it's a fiction just go with it' or 'it's just a fiction' does not give us a green flag to write whatever we want. How can we neglect our role as a Muslim for mere romance novels? May Allah guide us to that which is right. 
          
          
          
          
          
          
          
          

Please check out my book:
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/349605751-best-muslim-books

Hi sorry for posting without permission but plz I have something to share.
          
          So finally i have decided to write a story.  This story is about Mafia. And also love at first sight. 
          If you love reading so plz give my story a chance I want disappoint you. Plz do chack this link to read my story Angle's devil
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/337697703-angle%27s-devil
          
          If you like plz share with your friends  and plz vote
          Plz give it a try it won't disappoint you 
          
          I will wait for your response.

a small token of kindness (05th january 2023) 
          
          rain of refinement, earth of bloodshed; tropospheric rocks and primitive nightshade.  a seizure of clairvoyance, a mask of a stone; a memory loosened, a breath of disease. harm catapulted, catastrophic love; a wound transparent, blood a pinch of sea salt. 
          
          a pomegranate churlish, a caterpillar soft and green; firelight shells,  evening that murmurs fantasies. mourn the bell, the bell of heroism; creative feathers, heart of fresh fabric. tales of clouds, tales of uterus; a fallible dare, a poetic sickness. 
          
          sun sealed moon, wrapped, unwrapped; slip like a streamlet of smoke, a sharpness that floats. pulse that radiates, sleet that breathes; wings of bones, emotions an augury. autumn of balance, florid tinders; quietus fingertips, life an organ buzzing. 
          
          warped pollen, petals a haze; clouded blooms and lips of scents. ballrooms of solitude, chandeliers of pianos; what a song like that of feet tapping against measured slivers. what is fire hurts not itself but others, as the sun that burns its earth, as the moon tender upon eyes but hurts its heart the most. 
           #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 (28th december 2022) 
          
          hidden parks and streams like earthquakes; what has fallen, what has suffocated lustrous. burning flocks of yarned succors, thousand cuts on a black december. with darkness there is no sight, no diversity, no light; what is underneath, how much pain unseen. 
          
          spruced thunder and rain that shivers; bones of roses, salt that slivers. rainbow that crinkles and wrinkles evanescent; equinoxes that confess, odes that raucously bleed. naive dew with dragonflies of sunsets, knots consumed, blush of ashes frozen. 
          
          vivid breaths, dawn that palpitates; speckled red that glows, ocean water thickens with native noor.  a fortresses of mares and massacres; persimmons and rose quenched murderers. waist caressed with waterfalls, stories of prison; what if simple steps should be celebrated? 
          
          scarce metaphors, ignited honour; orange burns, peripheral endurance like november's. chestnut crowns, mysterious surrenders; wandering spines and vivacious respect. allow the storm to scream, to be verocious; you must remain silent, you must have it betrayed. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness (07th november 2022) 
          
          patterns on palms and paws, warriors of lost tears; smears and sunlight immersed in veins; water and wax, both who prick sins. mind the bashful door, the silhouettes of skins unfurnished; freedom is only if the streets are not crowded with regret. 
          
          ports of integrity and boats of grace; rain a moon that reverberates, a storm and wings with their own mind. condemn the sky and its fingers of silver syllables; what cannot hold blood can only ever be vacant. 
          
          secure the horizon, wash the world with ancient rhymes; hang the throat by its heart. song of canaries, struggling cabarets; they say nature is weak where footprints are dense. here is the hand, the hand of reckoning; sometimes stalwart beneath abyss. 
          
          tides crash into limbs, limbs of salt and tsunamis; hope dragged in a slipstream, gratitude weather worn, vehement. find me in seas and mysteries; lock your eyes with the breathless cerulean. be it silly or be it the law; do not water a thorn hoping it will grow as a rose. 
           #adropofhumanity 

السلام عليكم ورحمةالله وبركاته 
          Hi!
          
          A Mazed Heart contains a mysterious plot, thrilling tale and a lot of suspense to indulge in. 
          
          If you love the Mystery/Thriller genre, then check out this book.
          
          It's also a spiritual book focusing mainly on spirituality from varied dimensions. Check out this book if you are intrigued by this genre.
          
          And don't forget to leave your thoughts.
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/312750473?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=Rifa_Fathma_&wp_originator=jv%2FieCPTOL4Rl1Sf%2FstKhJ%2BMjS4H3c9SwOSJ2xni0a7RW1LE5Hm%2B%2FA4P3MZyKHuTrUz0eYpaPEcqf4Ys2j0HhNR0zqNVOX4MW1Bmd7E9VUwfgfUGRGhC4rNtQcP%2BHd5i

Can you suggest me a book?(your fav) 
          (bana favori kitabından bir tane önerebilir misin?) :)

a small token of kindness [25th june 2022] 
          
          maps of mishaps, fortune stored in cages; where the sun has set, fate has begun its appraisal.
          past and past, walks the line of lotuses; threaded veins and hearts made of needles. 
          daisy deaths and massacres; bodies of dust and rotten comforters. 
          murky predators, red velvet throats; beaches and octobers, stubborn sea salt.
          what hurts water, how can it be pure? venom as sweet as rose poison, lemon juice and milk of a mother. 
          build a home, breathe into life, hold the thorn, hold the daffodil; keep the tendrils of vulnerability under the sky. 
          fight against the clock frozen with ink, the mind that has burrowed itself in air filled with tender knives. 
          
          as water cuts a stone, as snow rests upon the gold; a drop of tear left unnoticed in a desert. 
          hairs and springs of a fountain blue, the stars drenched in velvet; pearls that drown the earth in rain. 
          winks of clouds and veil of the sun; wars a home of the old, the blood soaked land a curse for the young. 
          petrichor rings the bell, the rain carries your shadows and envelopes; fostered flowers caressed by dirt. 
          how many a petal we throw to the forests, radical hope and cottage courage; and when the light is dim, surrender to the storm starving. 
          words and willow trees, pines and fallacies; what is empty, talks, the air and the wings of tongues. 
          how many silences are bribed with the musk of hearts; how many poisoned, entrapped, by the scar of youth?
          they say life is a journey; nay, life is a house that was once lived in; insipid and defensive. 
           #adropofhumanity