.....The brush, rush the paint the
                        grudge    
    is ripe cultivate it or let it rust.
  The paint stail the painter frail.
   Caved canvas in sails of a sailor.
  Clash of nembuses the skin pailer  
as thunder walts ashore the ocean,
ballets on the sea like sworns with
wings intertwined dancing with the
                         wind.
You'll love the voice of melody when  
               harmony sings.
   Deep bliss drowns sins so reach
    the glimpse of peace and live

                 Poets coherent,
          honest with even pens
     and odd ends. Warm hearts
               with cold hands.
      Portraying all tales of time.
Write about bright lives bright in
     night stars riding dark skies,
                            Or
    The bane caved in same plains
       of pain as faith fades they
         aim pens on blank pages
               as sanity escapes
Vail veils of age and grow young
                         again.

You can either be the food
   That's delicious
  Or part of my wing
    That could be on my back
   You could be that other part
     With the idea of flying
    Anywhere

Promise me
When my hands begin to tremble
You’ll place your hand in mine
When my eyes become hollow
You’ll gaze into them
When I’m at a loss for words
You’ll kiss me so the silence
Can speak for the both of us.

Don’t be ashamed
Of your scars
Because I have matching ones

yud say av gorra chip on me shoulder
if i adunett it
am from fukkn inner city liverpool la
an a won' letya fuggerit
yer posh scrans jus werds ter me
so gerrit down ya neck
instedda waxin lyrical abar it
coz a doh no wot ya jus sed

just for a moment
darling, I beg you
don't move
don't speak
don't laugh
don't feel
don't ****

just for a moment
darling, look at me
stare at me a lil longer
wouldn't it be good this way
with less people to impress

just for a moment
darling, you and me

I was your Cure,
You were my Disease,


I was saving  you,
You were killing  **me.

/
I want to paint an image of Thy
That's not to be made with Water Color
Indeed desire to paint an Oil Painting
Blue will take from the Sky
Green from the Grass
I will take the Yellow from Barren Fields
Red will be borrowed from Parrot's Lips
And water from Your Tears
Will be grown thousands of Lost Dreams
After mingling of all the Colors
Thy face will be floated,
As the thousand year's "Mona Lisa"
With a patch mystic Smile
On my Gray Canvas

The bottom of the image's will be written
"You, My Beloved"
/
@Musfiq us shaleheen