Azka Ahmad

https://www.wattpad.com/story/382785125?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=pricessofislam
          Assalamu walaikum warahmatullahi wa barakatahu 
          I hope you are all doing great by Allah taalas mercy 
          This is my first ever short story, please give it a try 
          Thank you 
          Your writer sk.

Ramadan mubarak
          
          ♡♥︎♡

a token of kindness [ 18th july 2023 ] 
          
          insecure poems, confident aches; inspired decades yet everyday a death. stretching silences, concrete words; homes that melt and walls that echo. floating feet, rotten flowers; waves that pause in an ocean that seamlessly flows. 
          
          fluttering thoughts, fiddling feelings; coloured mouths and disappearing promises. hibernating lights and travelling darknesses; lingering lilacs and luminescent shadows. 
          
          minds of pearls, mouths of venom; do not lose by playing to their strengths. corridors of history, weaponsied love; transient nor malleable. fragile loneliness, screaming insecurities;  not every sunset has to be colourful. 
          
          sun of rain, thunders of frustration; mornings like amnesia, cloudless burdens. midday pride, repentance heavy; grief stricken victories, blackbird joys. mansions of footsteps, tears of dreams; we are all graves carrying the dying spark of life in us. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness [ 10th july 2023  ] 
          
          mountains and decorators, exhaustion and evil eye; surviving bones and careless finds. funeral floods and tumbling sorrows; forests and bridges of laughters and morals. feelings migrated, clouds and dresses; that which rains does not always bring about harvest. 
          
          clocks of manners, a road of residences; hearts like maples marked along fences. pictures of politeness, smiles like wounds; world a death of another, burial grounds like jasmine blooms. 
          
          mornings of questions, blurred evening attempts; youth of trial and error, life a honeycomb aged. dreams of wounds, dreams like a father's disappointment; storms like swaying birth, storms sometimes like corpses of discipline.  
          
          disassociated honour, ribbed filters; what binds is not glue, rather, mutual respect. eastern wind and crepuscular billows; howling books and silent words. the majesticness of months yet the solemnity of years; to the hearts that wriggle with pain, silence is delicate, thin ice-like elegance. 
           #adropofhumanity 

You still here?

AZKAAA

Hello good evening. Here is an ongoing book and I will like you to check it out
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/327320060?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create_story_details&wp_uname=Hussal0991&wp_originator=WHKZWY4UN83IyO%2FydGiei%2FvsOvWfsUU2TdkDa2QzIqif9yN3UQPQbVuItmriHZA1D6XIAtixtz8N12AognrwXznS2O9grj3G4n1YpXZlHh5HbunxrZthnCjZID43NTFl

a small token of kindness [ 20th february 2023  ] 
          
          blistering hope and disrupted forces, stomach of dirt and howling cresses; scraping blossoms and sunken springs. hollowed harvests, assaulted reaps; jeopardised desires and slivering skies. 
          
          mismatched woods and stolen petals; metaphorical gentleness and articulated coherence. dripping hearts, compendium ashes; ornate gale, weathered pages. 
          
          vintage eyes and handwritten libraries, fictional moon and escaped fantasies. inspiring nostalgia, doubtful guqin; poisonous inquiry, burial of heaven. vulnerability guarded, vindictive portraits; a monster of human needs, a devil of emotions. 
          
          brush-wood sprains and sinister autumns; stubborn walls and bittersweet burns. fluid memories, flamed nerves; familiar souvenirs,  a winter fued. a sadness of sharpness, bitter home in throat; caress the storms just as sadness has caressed tired norms. 
           #adropofhumanity

Future :
          
          Wondering what world holds for you?
          Thinking if your dreams will be true?
          
          If you will eradicate tyranny?
          Or perhaps be part of history?
          
          If ruling hearts will no longer be a long? 
          If prayers to mighty will no more starve?
          
          Such a blur image it all depicts. 
          The awaiting future we try to predict.
           
          Destiny is written by creator and still. 
          To things we won't, we shout "I will!". 
          
          ~Azka Ahmad 
          
          

The world is filled with a lot of emotions and hell lot of types of people. 
          Their even are times when I look and meet people and make a guess about what kind of people they are (turn out to be correct a lot of times ) , but I have never been able to tell the kind of person I am. But let's not talk about that. 
          You see, every eye differs. One person may see world as a Suffocating hell while others might find it a heaven ... Some may feel hopeless by looking around, while others may find it a hopeful place full of opportunities. 
          I mostly see it as a dark place, but I stay hopeful. Its not because I am having terrible times or terrible life but its because when I see the people, the children, the babies.... Suffering....I cant help but feel guilty. It feels like they could have been me if born here, they could have been better if born at a better place. It feels like the people above them are all responsible, and I used to blame God but its our fault... because He never created this distinction, we did. To satisfy our egos and pride and to feel better by being above others, we created classes, otherwise the world was all free and equal for all. So, when I see around I only feel pain, guilt and suffering. That's how I am viewing world...TODAY ! (today because it changes as I learn more ). What about you?