RAM

Hi 

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 (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 

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 

Hey Sister, Assalamu Alaikum Warahmatullahi Wabarakatuhu! How are you doing?
          
          We had conversed before. And it's been really long! I wish you are having a good health and Imaan❤️

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 [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) 

a small token of kindness (09th june 2022) 
          
          mourning shades, earth a rustic moon; candle soldiers, sunset roars. glass of wind, a sea that chimes; struggling lungs, alveoli of pride. circles sacred, birds and barks; persistent melodies, life a screaming scar. half of ourselves, half of earth; skeptical rules and societal lusts. 
          
          summer lightning and thunderous rainbows, yesterday's reflection in today's waters. blooming trains and grieving whistles; gravity a fork, humans fixated. ripening fruit like a sturdy kettle, boiling season as a cloudless friend. 
          
          birds of the night, mediterranean lungs; lace of glory, air a crochet undone. toes of rhythm, seventh sense; sweetness of earth's roots, pears engraved as tendrils in veins. brightness of fog, of a breath fuzzy; life in the woman's womb, a universe- like history. life blurry, a home of shadows; night, death and the womb, bringers of awakeness. 
           #adropofhumanity 
          
          (do not fear the dark; we came from it, we came from wombs) 

Hey cousin!
          As you are so close to me. I have been writing my own book so you should check on it.
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/296590779?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=Z_A_I_M_A&wp_originator=0oxaXY1NVdfFotod301om%2B2LJa95o%2FYMTMQB7zRbzucpqdV0MAGJQw5H%2FC%2BPAkQwaaaFtYsksnXoCDQdDBqbd3T1mkOYVB%2FrMZi4RQEsuQmBvyDYDM3J0fAlP0Iv6Fly
          
          Love you cuz :)

a small token of kindness (12th October 2021)
          
          the sun has existed for centuries, without a trace anywhere. it springs a little and hibernates within itself; its presence a petal that delicately falls to demise after an hour of existence. it cuts through the emptiness, warms the dead a bit, guides the void and sets into the womb of the horizon.
          
          the moon begins its course as a mighty surfer like damask tides that tear through the ocean to gnaw at the sky. lack of ululation and of illumination, lack of cumulation and of guidance and lack of a positive environment everywhere. yet it sparks for a while, with a colour of childhood and sinks then, into the rebellion of painted growth. 
          
          everything has its time. everything has its sin of end. when one thing starts, it pours itself down the waterfall of death. the flowers take birth in the spaces of toes and in the dirtied heart of indulgence, they seem to rot. 
          
          like the tongue of the devil and the forbidden sea, we humans have lost our hearts to our abdomens. greed has taken form in us like the wicked apple in darjeeling, our senses lost to the suave-like bodies of stained ink. 
          
          our eyes have occupied monsters within them. what we see, we must destroy with our stomachs. not every availability is to be eaten, some just are for instilling caution. cling to your claws of curiosity, for they are a flaw shaped as paradise. but to test them through every breath of innocence; are we flesh or are we then nothing but wolves in pearled form of humans? 
          
          life perhaps is mostly lost for the very reason that we choose to feed upon it when infact, it should be merely caressed with soft fingertips. 
          
          the oceans waves are only for adoration. do not mistake them to be an invitation into their privacy. you may be a human, the best of creatures, but to the ocean that has existed forever, you might only be the salt to its openness; a knife to its bleeding secrets. 
           #adropofhumanity