Rifa_Fathma_

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

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 

salmoher

Hi, I hope you're doing well. 
          If you like desi romance with a touch of mystery and horror, perhaps you may enjoy my book: A Curse of Death and Desire.
          
          I would really  appreciate it if you check it out. 
          
          No pressure though. 
          
          Thank you.
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/232671501?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=salmoher&wp_originator=jty%2FCwzbWNKA7XcG1xLyKVfFuiz%2BIivzhfVj%2FuZrTXm14prvG7%2FSR%2F9DmsA3%2Bf9RjazihNXCR%2F0tO82OVESkZU1qqQ9WdDrFmjtTnDrJpRI0r7wSB%2Fw9XDA01l%2FT9Ub7

dreamer_soul21

I’m good Alhamdulillah.. Sure I will give it a try
Reply

adropofhumanity

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 

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 
          
          

adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness [12th june 2022]
          
          the night has its shadows, blue and grey; masked in apple's seeds, agony bathed. 
          stand in the route, be miserly in calmness; there is a devil shrouded in an eye's fountains. 
          drift like a white whale, amidst memories; from aches of cure to cures of fantasies. 
          transcend life from that present on fingertips, linger near bones, where art is kismet. 
          hollowed oranges, skins like lotuses; what we wear, we often throw. 
          a poet's backbone, a shark's tale; foam of taste buds lingering as fireflies in a throat. 
          mangoes, possums, bread and butter; a mouth of cicada symphonies, celestial dust. 
          watch the canary, year to year; dirt and snow emotions, cheeks of the earth. 
          
          shabby braids and cicada musings, burrowed sunsets and pastel bones. 
          metallic connections and feathered bangles, heads of spines and littered passages. 
          vines of grapes, of collectibles and peaches; pain of pollen, eclipsed sun and its eight witches. 
          foreign hands, hums of voices barren; silence heavy, storms and curtains. 
          blues of life and blues of disguises, shadows of night veiled by lanterns.
          maps and strangers, shores and shells; rib for a rib, hunt for a hunt; what you had the courage to bring into this world must be allowed to live, dreams or ephialtes. 
           #adropofhumanity 
          
          (if you had the courage to dream of it, by no means do you lack the courage to live it) 

CA_Saba_Chhapra

dreamer_soul21

Hey, will check it out. Thanks for suggesting 
Reply

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 

adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness (8th November 2021) 
          
          the clock of russet leaves and almond wings rouses the sun with a flick of pumpkin coffee; a race with the futuristic tragedies and constellations of adulterated secrets. what lives in it, a cage. and a pair of weeping hands that struggle to shroud the prisoner with a silken petunia. 
          
          and in the nights, the moon scrambles through the fisted stars; the mesh a séance of the gemmed fascinations. what appears is but a nonchalant melancholy, an ivory girl dressing the dark with its daisy's crescent. however, what does not meet the swallowed orb is the scene under the nose; only the tip of the ice berg. 
          
          within the vacancies of the oceans is a void of the laid laws; of the buried losses and alive tongues. what is reciprocation, what is history, but a repetition of the molded lie, of a flower set in Iguazu's mouth; the one that is drowned each day, every year, under the sparrow's sea. what is present is a pulchritudinous loss, clothed as freshly plucked darkness; held in a mother-like womb. 
          
          royale roses and blood baskets are a testament of the sky's shoulders and the heart of a human a casket of moon freckles, guarded in red vessels. how does this organ then be a coast of calm? why does the rib hold it at a knife's point? 
          
          the heart seeks what defies gravity, the luminous sin from a frosted envelope. it is not dirt that settles, rather a flamingo that grazes the pebbled waters. hold it, mold it, like the sky that shapes the sun and conceals the moon. perhaps that is what the aim is after all; to break the singular mass in you and reform it into the shape of universe. 
          
          for you are just half a heart, incompletely constructed. like the sun and the stars that are half of the skies and half of you. 
           #adropofhumanity 

adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness (7th November 2021) 
          
          the scalpel defines the wounds of the dense sun, the world but a vanilla skin of the organ; of chrysalis stitches and butterscotch flecks. much of it blends into the greedy seas, into the wilting petunias of the shallow springs and the words of prey that are consumed by the foam of the lunatic cosmos. 
          
          the collisions are where the alike attract and the opposite succumb to a ground of smoldering verses; a casket of collected limbs. vast parts of its anthem are consumed by the purple of the living  wounds; a clean glow contaminated with the wailing dawn. 
          
          marks are left around, smells are planted like the crabapples that grow with desperate blackbirds, hungry are proposed with the helpful pledges of sorrow and the dances of the mothers are engulfed in a crown of their martyred uteruses. 
          
          what one knows is but a thing of newness; a fresh torch of obstinate piety and poetry breaths through flowers of chestnut. sourness of the fingerprinted  letters carry a hundred and twenty furies, each one a call, a summoning to your ten different beings. 
          
          without an understanding, what is love and admiration but a fool's plate of food? any life without a name is a treasure lost to the sea, like the pearl that remains canvassed between origami ornaments. 
          
          what is cherished, is discovered; stared at and longed for. the fumes, the inks, the curtains of disguises, the patterns, the scars and the rib veiled hearts are traced, with fingertips of delicate onyxes. 
          
          the sun and the moon are but the creatures of clay; unknown and unalive. however with identity, they are companions of the confederate roses; of bleeding hands and blackberry silences. 
           #adropofhumanity 

dreamer_soul21

Thank you for your small tokens of happiness ❤️❤️
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