Trump is more justice than Mohamad
Trump took money from Arab nations
Because they had money they don't deserve

He hated Muslims and released his shout
Islam is responsible for any killing occurred
Mosques is the cells for terrorist

Mohamad is the prophet of Islam
Mohamad old nation hated the new religion Islam
As it equalized between the slaves and Masters

It equalized between black and colors people
When one of Mohamad' friends swore another one
The first was white one

Another was black one
He swore with the son of the black
Mohamad got angry and talked

He told that one to apologize
The man turned and put his cheek
Under the another foot and swore

He would not get up until he put his foot over his cheek
They got up, hung and cried
Mohamad invited to new religion

His nation hated him
They put a plot
They had gathered and waited
Mohamad was known as the faith and the honest
His enemies of his nations put the valuable things to Mohamad
They put a plot to **** him

They planned and they decided
There is another power who planned
God told him and cared

In spite of taking the valuable things as requital and revenge
He ordered his cousin to sleep at his bed
As a sort of deceive and to have time to get
Out

They were forty of most trained knights
Carrying strong swords
God put sleep over them

Mohamad crossed between them

They invited all Arabs to **** them
When Badr battle occurred
His enemies were strong

They were also a lot
One their leaders said
We will go as a trip

Sing, dance, eat meat
Then defeat Mohamad
If Arab nations heard that

They fear of us
The winds blew against the desire
They were defeated

After the battle finished
Mohamad had kind heart
Who had money payed for his freedom to be happened

Who had not
He learnt ten of Muslim how to read and write
At this battle one of his friends

Had his sword been pieced
He went to the prophet
Telling him that he had any sword

Mohamad had no sword except his sword
He took a branch of tree lied
He gave it with his bless

The man took without wonder or amaze
He shocked the branch at air in strong
The branch became a strong sword

He still used it
Till his dead

Everything
Inside me
Is fighting a
War
For my
Soul, mind, and body
There are so many battles
I can't keep track
Anymore
I just try my best
To shut out the sound
Of bullets and
Clashing swords

And on that night he learned
Never look towards the storm
Unless you're ready to give your fiercest battle cry
And charge right inside
And **** it through its eye

dampness forms in her eyelids,
slowly treading itself down her honey skin,
slipping down her cheeks;
teardrops are born.

brown eyes gaze into the horizon,
sweeping over the sunset,
forever wondering;
if the pain will cease.

fragile fingertips trace shapes,
twirling and digging themselves,
into the earth's surface;
dreading to be loved.

heart strings pull and release,
yanking emotional impulses,
and flooding imperfections;
coveting for a shoreline.

delicate arms are open,
awaiting for the storm to hit,
a futile attempt to embrace it;
but she is the storm.