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Hail the advent of a glorious conqueror The donner of hope and harbinger of bliss. For whom all bow in respect In anticipation for valuable incomparable gifts. The attendees of the ceremony are excited They are there, and everywhere; Nature orchestrates the scene: Trees are cladded in majestic floral green, Flowers exhibit colourful smiles, Tiny flowers bloom out of their closed abodes In hope of catching some breeze gifts Or enjoying a considerable sum Of the waiting bright sun That decided to tear out the gloomy damp clouds And replace them with warmth That is extravagant and stout. Certainly, the presence of the soil is not missed It would receive immeasurable heaps of bless Accompanied with the long expected guests of the Mighty winds hurrying from the south and the north. Hail Spring, it has arrived Its entourage are filling every sight With mirth and beauty, Winter along with its cruelty have been forcibly locked In a dungeon of shocking gloom Where hawking fear flocks. Under the dazzling scene, yet, another story is fomenting It unravels the impressions and substitutes them with facts Which mere mentioning is intolerably tormenting. Indeed, blind rationality is more pleasant than the face of reality. Spring has come, so what!! Soon it would leave! And maybe sooner than anyone might believe. They are just seasons; Brothers and sisters who are all alike With identical tools and different application They are all disguised blisses and plights. Come, have a close look. Don’t you perceive? The gifts they bestow never exceed Being a ruthless plot of division and alienation. Let’s hail all the seasons And condemn them all, at the same time; Their gifts are treason for the intelligence of mankind. They are a coin with versatile faces That keep on promising and deluding all races. Don’t you believe? Just wait and see what is next and what will become It is crystal evident that they are all troublesome.
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May 5
May 5, 2026 at 5:17 AM UTC
Conqueror
Hail the advent of a glorious conqueror The donner of hope and harbinger of bliss. For whom all bow in respect In anticipation for valuable incomparable gifts. The attendees of the ceremony are excited They are there, and everywhere; Nature orchestrates the scene: Trees are cladded in majestic floral green, Flowers exhibit colourful smiles, Tiny flowers bloom out of their closed abodes In hope of catching some breeze gifts Or enjoying a considerable sum Of the waiting bright sun That decided to tear out the gloomy damp clouds And replace them with warmth That is extravagant and stout. Certainly, the presence of the soil is not missed It would receive immeasurable heaps of bless Accompanied with the long expected guests of the Mighty winds hurrying from the south and the north. Hail Spring, it has arrived Its entourage are filling every sight With mirth and beauty, Winter along with its cruelty have been forcibly locked In a dungeon of shocking gloom Where hawking fear flocks. Under the dazzling scene, yet, another story is fomenting It unravels the impressions and substitutes them with facts Which mere mentioning is intolerably tormenting. Indeed, blind rationality is more pleasant than the face of reality. Spring has come, so what!! Soon it would leave! And maybe sooner than anyone might believe. They are just seasons; Brothers and sisters who are all alike With identical tools and different application They are all disguised blisses and plights. Come, have a close look. Don’t you perceive? The gifts they bestow never exceed Being a ruthless plot of division and alienation. Let’s hail all the seasons And condemn them all, at the same time; Their gifts are treason for the intelligence of mankind. They are a coin with versatile faces That keep on promising and deluding all races. Don’t you believe? Just wait and see what is next and what will become It is crystal evident that they are all troublesome.
#depression; #philosophy; #loss_of_hope; #tragedy; #nature
naeemaabdelgawad
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May 5
May 5, 2026 at 5:17 AM UTC
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