"exemplary" poems
Sister who conceived was thrown outta the nunnery
This disgrace fed the top feeds hence.
Shunning all her exemplary works at once.
But where did the well-read ladies lose reference?
THE BOOK had revealed it all right there,
But when history repeated itself...
with just a track from heaven missing
And so this mother raised a fatherless child.
But in history when the father was a Carpenter.
Here in time the father was a Father
Who continued to raise "patriarchy" on the altar!
Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 3:47 PM UTC
What a beautiful thing it is !
A Canvas that speaks a lot
Wow ! an artist’s soul
That try to speak a lot
From the window of canvas
To the doors of sky
Till the depth of ocean
In the romancing moonlight
And spreading its vastness
As the fragrance
Of night blooms
Until the sunrise
Again from morning dews
To chirping birds
Snowy mountains
To windy breeze
A moving cloud
And even from rain to rainbow
All is possible
With the tip of a brush
Is a marvellous thing
That depicts an artist’s heart
An art is a creation
Of an artist
Which is made
In different colours
With different paints
And in different shades
But all in one canvas
Makes an effective painting
Which can never die
As an artist’s soul
That is lightning forever
As a magical lantern
Some paintings speaks a lot
Like stories to us
When it starts speaking
The whole image depicts
It’s originality
As an original photo
Of some place
And that really can lost us
Somewhere as in the canvas
Even eyes of a portrait
Speaks a lot
When we stare in that eyes
It seems as the person is gazing
As a living person is standing in front of us
Which feels like a real photo
And it really makes
An unbelievable painting
Which is like giving life
To the non living thing
Within the canvas
By an artist
Or like a flower bloomed
In the hands of an artist
Canvas that speaks a lot
Really shows true heart
Of an artist’s creation
A beautiful creation
By ones own hands
Mesmerise all of us
With no time
Like an original picture
Taken with a camera
Of high resolution
Is something to adore
With the hearts of love
Canvas that speaks a lot
Is a graceful creation
That makes us wonder
Which is a miracle
In hands of an artist
That remains its effect
For life time
And that make
An artist
Different from others
Canvas that speaks a lot
Is a creation of art
When an artist starts
To move his hand on canvas
It starts to speak a lot
From the sincerity of love
To the beauty of a nature
Sparkling eyes of a human
And the depth of a sea
All that beautiful creation
Of Godly things
Is once more painted
With the help of an artist’s brush
Is something that speaks
For a lifetime
With thousands of words
In one image
Is an exemplary
Creation of humane
In a canvas
Canvas that speaks a lot
With voice of heart
Beats in every hearts
And in all eras
An artist is like a lantern
That lightens other lights
And a canvas is a mirror
Of an artist’s soul
That reflects the lights
For lifetime
Which was once lit
By an artist
With a great deal
Who was owned
By an eloquent soul.
Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 2:21 AM UTC
So tired yet so awake
I sit at the edge of an ellipsis
crimping the charred innards of my tattered soul
to make a masterpiece of gore
and internal war.
over the years of self loathing
I finally love myself
but getting ****** up feels ****** perfect
and watching this world unfold anew with each hit
or shot
rocks my mind
unkind but exemplary in it's own fortitude
to prevail my own veils
aside they're cast and fumbled with
as thick smiles seed
and the pace is set for the evening
I can't help but think that leaving
could do me good
but who backs out before the last shot?
who leaves before the deafening toll of midnight?
Cinderella's umbrella of security
and purity
is at jeopardy
and with great haste she wastes away the good looks
for late night *****
and nicotine
forgetting to clean
her closet of supreme validity on
the functioning teen
trying not to be mean,
but completely obscene in gestures
with the barbie's manufacturers groping for caspers
in the utopian disasters of the girl they forged
many decades back, but lost track
of the track that played that summer night
in the moonlight of immaculate humor and love
above all the oozing essence that manifested
now tested, for virtual ******
your cerebellum will tellem the positive
credo
that we all know is hooked on the days drift wood with
byzantine benzodiazapines to guide her haunted spirit
till
the cracks turn to crevasses and prehistoric protons mate with electrons
in the vat that is abrewing to plot the lies
watch the skies fade to grey as it may
be about time for the ecliptic rhymes to find
reconciliation
in the bladed grains of mortality and sigh
for being high in this lowered juncture
of subsisting future
buys you time to mull over such a daydream
as your last breath
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 7:51 AM UTC
Dear Beloved Uncle,
Of all the smiles I’ve seen,
It was yours that was the most serene.
Of all the seas in the world,
I found yours the most unparalleled,
For your sea had mighty waves of cordiality.
Of nearly all the conversations in the world,
It was yours the most exemplary.
For I've heard only pristine and lily-white words from you.
May 28, 2021
May 28, 2021 at 12:32 PM UTC
Us together was exemplary devastation and even in pieces, I yearned for more...
Us together now is pure conservation even perpetual I want more...
Can I compare you to my lovely day? But you are the art more lovely and more adumbrate...
Your cherry blossom hue never gonna wash away by heavy showers of rain I'm not even gonna let ragged wind shake my darlings, Dovey...
You can savour me... But only with your eyes... And I will vow with mine.. then there will be no surprise...
May our path be cohered forever and get entwined... We can epoch our kiss in a barrel then we not gonna need chardonnay wine...
What signifies how intimate we shall be??
Not what you are but what you're to me...
But you are so far away... And we are planning to make our stay... we are staying under the blanket of starry nights...
And it's a sight to behold because we gonna see two moons collide...
As long as the sun shines we traverse and expands...
May we reach the end of it all and may this never ends...
Feb 21, 2022
Feb 21, 2022 at 6:01 AM UTC
I'm facing the horizon, reclining in the cool grass, staring deeply into the pink and purple sky.
It is an exemplary evening and I am enticed by its extravagance. I contemplate existence.
I contemplate all our lives:
The gnat licking sweat of my brow,
You,
Me,
That tree across the street,
Your dead friends, my ancestors, that hot Latina chick that works at Panara (not that I really eat at Panara).
The undercover cop that won't stop eyeing me.
I watch the pink fade into purple fade into nothing at all. The clouds disperse, becoming nothing more than disconnected particles of dirt and water suspended in midair, and the sun goes down.
I **** the gnat and go home.
Jun 17, 2012
Jun 17, 2012 at 5:10 PM UTC
Perhaps greatness is in the way you yield
The way you stopped reaching
Settled in to greatness
Perhaps it is exemplary in your plan
The constant pushing away
Greatness can wait another day
Perhaps your incomplete work
One unraveled drawing
Half a turn of dance
Some desperate note
Poem of
Unknown greatness
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 1:18 AM UTC
You're making me cry and I've only just met you
I hate you already
you're too nice
you're too beautiful
you're too funny
you're too perfect
for words
yet I keep wasting them on you
I want to not want you
but I do
I want to kiss you
all over
in your house
in my house
in public
in private
I want to peek at chu from afar
and drink you in when were up close
you smell so good
so so delicious
I could eat you for breakfast
I could sleep in your bed and make you hot cocoa
we could be afraid together
we could laugh and laugh
and laugh
I'm so awkward and
you
are too weird for words
you make no sense
we make no sense
I don't even know you
you don't know the real me
not yet
but you might if you keep this up
this act
it's so convincing
I want to believe you
in all of you and everything you're saying
I think back
and remember
it was so
wonderful
I worshipped that
it's a weakness
you're my weakness
now
I know what you're saying
it's probably not true
you just want it
like everyone's said
I mean I kinda want it too
and your lies are so good
your lies are exemplary
they're better then mine
so I'll play along
I have too
I'm hooked now
don't let me go
don't leave me
keep me here in this fake heaven
this cloud nine
I'm skiing your body with my emotions
I like it so much
I'll smile back
please
please just don't stop smiling at me
I think it will break me.
I'll keep a rag and dust pan handy
I've been told
I'm a fantastic sweeper
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 2:11 AM UTC
This world, that we live in,
Is not at all less.
It is full of lies
And a lot of mess.
The innocent being abducted,
The honest being convicted,
There’s no ray of hope,
In this world,
Of untruthful, slimy slope.
It is so not possible,
To climb back up,
Because the world,
Is constantly trying,
To pull you back down,
In this ditch,
So that alone they do not drown.
This is what
You have to watch out for.
Everybody is selfish;
Nobody is yours,
Except your family.
Who is always there;
Even in wars.
People are bad,
And will always be,
You have to survive,
With dear ones to your support,
You have to thrive.
Go on, who stops you?
But watch out for these traitors:
That will always be near you.
Looking for a potential prey,
Every single day.
They will treat you nicely at first,
On cloud nine,
They will make you fly,
But what comes later,
Is something impalpable.
Falling through a canopy,
Into a trench that is
Unfathomable.
Come on! You have to get up:
Be strong,
You have to catch up!
This not the end,
But the beginning,
Of your story.
A story,
That will one day be exemplary,
For all,
In this howsoever bad world.
Success will follow you,
If you follow struggle;
This struggle will become obsession;
Obsession, your passion.
And passion is unstoppable.
That very day,
When you know your goal very evidently,
And the journey is your pal,
Nobody can stop you,
From being on top of the world.
And this time,
Nobody’s going to push you
Because on top,
You will be
All alone.
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 12:21 PM UTC
Innocence Molested
Innocence has been molested, thrown in dust bin
Just without any sin and just without any crime
The only sin of little girl was to get education to win
The laurels in days to come to serve in her prime
Morality has gone to dogs and dogs are but stray
Their masters are trying hard to save them for brutality
Shameless creatures are hidden in their ***** way
But this time they will not be safe for but heir hostility
Zainab was ***** and killed in the age of just seven
While her parents were on holy journey to Makkah
So sweet a girl being a martyr she embraced heaven
Her chastity purity were converted by rascals to saga
Criminals must be hanged till death for their ***** sin
Little girl be given justice with exemplary punishment
No more little girls be molested ,thrown but in dust bin
Corrupt elements be annihilated as declared and meant
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2018 Golden Glow
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 4:53 AM UTC
There is exemplary synergy in Nature
Coexistence of the birthed life
It’s a wonder for the wanderers
We try to create an imbalance
By our negligence and ambivalence
Bound and cloaked in this invisible bond
We are at risk of alienating ourselves
Severing ties with the lifeline
We cannot decipher the rich synergy
Mortals we all are, but some, lesser mortals
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 2:04 AM UTC
**Meek
Astute
Noble
Didactic
Exemplary
Learned
Angelic**
For You Mandela
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 2:35 PM UTC
Behind all his smiles and silly gestures
He longs to walk a thousand miles away
He desires to escape from everyday
No more small talk
Or large gatherings
The curtain has CLOSED
A contemporary task.
**In the eyes of the crowd
All they see is the proud facade
Entertainment is important
And all they care about
Forgetting the person
behind the PERSONA
a temporary mask.**
As his mask fades
Rabbits shift
into sparrows
No light at the end
Only cued applauds
Some flowers
And skewed imagery
An exemplary stage.
**Disappearing into the night
Unmasking the illusions he conjured.
The sinking reality comes back
As
Lingering
Silence echoes his longing…
A price to pay of the famed gift
Hoping this will be his last...**
~FINALE~
Justin G / Pax
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 7:11 AM UTC
We have never actually met
I mean physically, of course
But we've got to know each other well
Over the course of six years
When we had our first conversation
I looked up to you, as a senior colleague
In fact, I still do
Especially considering the way you handle certain clients
Who have given us a lot of trouble, over the years
And the way you manage your work
Given that you have to deal with a lot of family matters as well
Is nothing short of exemplary
However, you are not just my senior
You are a good friend of mine too
That's why I rant a lot
As far as work is concerned
Because I know you will listen and understand
And many a time, I find
That I feel much better
After sharing my issues with you
Of course, it works both ways
I am always ready to listen
When it is your turn to rant
Hopefully, it is only a matter of time
Before we eventually meet
Nevertheless, our relationship goes on to show
That it is definitely possible
For two people to be good friends
Without meeting each other face-to-face
Apr 23, 2023
Apr 23, 2023 at 9:29 AM UTC
Naked and exposed; an innermost toast to the titillating desires of a delicious and composed lass immersed with dashing class
The ardent crowd willingly drowns in momentary ecstasy as the divine nature emitting from an aesthetic and cultivated queen oozes with opalescent essence and awakens the collective effervescence
Maintaining dignified silence with poise and grace; the exemplary life of an uncommonly bright goddess illuminates the room and ignites the exceptional effulgence of the moon.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
If my face were on a milk carton, who might say they know me?
Family Trees were hell, but I got Bruce Lee for a dad.
Almond-shaped eyes and yellow skin don’t flow with a white name.
Heritage was anime and soy sauce, my attempt to grasp childhood.
Khakis and button downs smother a kimono;
good thing I knew my third cousin was Jackie Chan.
Exemplary English scores, mediocre math were my sentence,
the honorable ACT presiding. All rise for the boy with no history.
Science might prove otherwise but until then. . .
Orphans don’t have happy beginnings
the birds and the bees sit better with both parties in a normal family.
Paper can’t lie, but parents sure can.
Fantasy-cursed for eighteen years
until Truth finally came, the coward.
All rise for the boy with no history.
All rise for the ******* son.
Feb 2, 2012
Feb 2, 2012 at 2:33 PM UTC
Humble beginnings
To the bitter ends
Frantic boot heels
Optical illusions
The **** of a joke
Last but not least
Whatsoever
Then again
Telegram a trigger word
Dangle from an umbilical chord
Eat the placenta
As the deadlines fluctuate
And the ambivalence
Is sealed in a canopic jar
It's experimental
Mental experiences
It's elemental
exemplary mentality
It's explicit
To solicit
The illicit
And go ballistic
-Tommy Johnson
They're so generous
To call me and my work sui generis
I'm just inter-being
To learn from ignorance
By my own volition
To achieve total consciousness
"Of all the nerve you sure got a lot of some of it"
Coming from oblivion
Ideas composing
The appreciation
Imagination turn into materialization
Expand and contract
The sensation of feeling
We crave and we cling
Becoming, we're born
A phase, we age
Sickness and death
Cessation, ratify or deny
Die gratified
These are the type of things we discussed in the Agora, all those times ago
-Tommy Johnson
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 6:55 PM UTC
Soulful Mention
Beautiful white women I’m asking you to stand down this time your well noted in the cool cats book of
Love you electrify and defy all true description as all magic does and native American woman copperas
Skinned you bend and lend yourself to the exotic natural wonders your long black hair moves along the
Prairie grass up over the foot hills into the mountain wilds with a sight that is spellbinding you go so far
And when you can go no higher than the powerful eagle carries you aloft where sight is lost and you
Cause faith to enter because otherwise it’s unbelievable the effect you have on me no this is for the
Ones that their voice was first heard among the lions roar who else could have the power and courage
To endure such injustice and burdens dark like your ebony skin it would take men like Sam Cook and
Otis Redding with raw emotion and deep soul to travel out of Georgia through the dark store fronts and
Neon club lights of Harlem flow through the big Easy take your current at flood stage through
Birmingham Mobile the projects of St Louis on through the gateway to the west Kansas City where you
Pick up speed and the drawl is covered by the sprawl through it all your name is being called slow down
Baby turn and stop within those songs and voices your glory is resounding your life goes unbounded the
Honey drops it causes all males to stop you’re in the presence of true ladies they can be soft as cotton
Candy or have an edge that is smoky bluesy best referred to as a trumpet blast that can also smolder
Drift down city streets the horn is sounding oh how appealing the girl has got her groove on listen your
Being called by the most brilliant voices of our time Zelma heard and for a time lived an immortal dream
The transference of sorrow would extend extol these women into heartfelt heroes you truly can’t
Create such ignorance and grim circumstance without creating the rarest black Rose stone walls laden
Fields plantations was their birth place they are the one point that our race has been raised to
Exemplary Character
Apr 28, 2012
Apr 28, 2012 at 8:17 PM UTC
Pure Art
Combine the 2 of them and anything is possible
The intent of 1 and the capabilities of 1
Together in 1 person both are exemplary
With the abilities to have a new mind
Along with unique artistic talent
Now anything is possible
See what they create
With their muse
Pure art
May 28, 2022
May 28, 2022 at 4:02 PM UTC
The Deerfield keeps me. My eyes follow the treeline testing my wit, tossing new exemplary corybantic lights. They zoom around me in hurried whirling motion. Then you appear. You can have my moon and my planets, my stars, and I haven't even spoken yet. In the midst of an earnest offering to the first of three heavy drinking boisterous uneasy types. I tell the stranger I'll drive him the, but what- .2 miles to his home- and your light exaserbates my speech.
Maybe you thought I'd go for your nose, but I'm after your breath. Rightly so, too many men have squandered much of the joy from being superfluously strangely with strangers. The drunk party exits screen left, and a new character, a Kennedy evolves from the shadows.
[This is where you begin conducting]
My thoughts brim with colors, patterns, shades, and hues. I paused to take in these profound chakras I thought had become the desiccate dusty footprints, walking around Foley's pond trying to find the best fishing hole through the rough and tangled undergrowth that consumed those hours of my life.
Your writing is far better than mine was at your age.
There is depth and richness in the vocabulary you choose.
Let me kidnap you for a day, present you with the places I like to let
My eyes gaze upon. Between the thatchwork of black and white and gray.
Where are my hands? The Earth is at my back, she begs me
To pry further, to know better the rejuvenating handy-work she
Has laid before me, and the noncom I mustn't reject either.
I cannot sleep. I wouldn't want to sleep if I could. I would reject it as I am. Drive until daylight casts morning into memory, I would recreate another
Fifty of exceptionally raw and indulgent exchanges. This is before the questions begin.
I inquiry myself to draw your story through the sparseness of details I ferociously gobbled up with excitement and profound wonder. I am absent in my own hours, and yet there is frothy balance, no bedevilments of the flesh, but even so we are only the skin and bone and makings of human. I commit to protect you from harm and show you beauty and humor amidst the chaos and crisis of life's evolution. It is your excruciating curiosity and lack of fear that draws me ever more near.
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC
Some people are special naturally
Neither by endeavor nor by wishing
Their lord makes them that way
For another person and for him, solely
It could be that the Lord has made every mortal unique
But kept the beauty in the eye of the beholder
Only the two who are meant for one another
Can see and feel the difference in their love
Like all exemplary relations this bond needs much patience
Sacrifices have to be made and courage displayed
But once the Lord wills, he needs say only 'Be'
And the destined souls can feel themselves being elated
Once their love blossoms it means they have been blessed
With a relationship none like any other they have ever had
There are no barriers of age or gender; status or physical beauty
It can simply be called destiny
Those special to each other no longer know the meaning of being selfish
Their hearts now contain nothing but pure feelings
It’s a connection between two souls made from the Great light
Intricate and simple side by side
It’s just too hard to describe
Only those who have felt it
Can possibly know what the real deal is
The happiness of being with that special person
The tenderness of his warm feelings
The agony of missing him
Fear of losing him, side by side
The loving words
The magical hugs
The fun chit chats
Messing with others
Those little fights
And the big scary ones too
The emotional scene once the quarrel is over
And soon after which there is uncontrollable laughter
For each moment with that special person
You thank Allah almighty with all you can
In the end you hope that you will be able to stay with that person forever
Both in this world and in the paradise of hereafter
For that’s how special the person really is
It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of it
However, one important thing is to not lose sight of the real truth
You’d better not love that mortal more than the one truly worthy of it
Your creator is the one you ought to love the most
For he’s the one who blessed you with these feeling in the first place
Keep this in mind and all shall be well
Both for you and that special one
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 1:53 PM UTC
one morning, Jack awoke with a distinct feeling
that something was not quite right.
as he peeled his eyes from a crusty sleep
his suspicions were further aroused by a marked loss
of sight from his right eye
as though he was peering through
a thick charcoal jungle
he clutched his hand towards his face
and was alarmed to find
a rather substantial lock of hairs
protruding from his right eyebrow.
wondering if perhaps he might
still be in a world of waking dreams
where one couldn’t really trust one’s intuitions,
he wandered over to the light switch,
flicked it on/off a couple of times.
having reached the conclusion that
he was definitely not dreaming,
and that his retinas
(or his left one, at least)
were definitely receptive to fluctuating light levels
he made his way to the bathroom
to inspect his face, with one hand
bemusedly fondling his recently grown eye-brow fringe.
in the bathroom he stumbled
across his wife sitting on the toilet.
on catching sight of her hairy husband,
she let out a deranged scream.
"darling, you'll alarm the neighbours" said Jack.
but his wife, who did not seem
to be sufficiently worried about
alarming the neighbours,
or anyone in her resident universe
continued to make strange warbling noises.
so, Jack instead decided to study
his growth in the kitchen sink.
although not made from
exemplary reflective material,
the sink was able to confirm
his impression that his right eyebrow had,
overnight, been subject to an alarming rate of growth.
his wife appeared in the doorway.
“I’m sorry for screaming.
it was only because I thought you were a pirate”
she said. and though he knew
that this was just one in many
of a long string of inter-marital lies
that bounced between them,
he let it pass. a decision having
been decided upon in perhaps
not the most democratic manner possible,
Jack's wife fetched the kitchen scissors
from the drawer by the dishwasher.
as she snipped away, chunks of black
fell soft like feathers from sunburnt wings
and landed on the Lino.
Jack felt inexplicably sad.
they went off to work as usual,
and no one noticed
the jagged edge of his once pirated-eyebrow.
Apr 19, 2012
Apr 19, 2012 at 5:11 AM UTC
"Red Tailed Hawk"
Written in 2009 - 16 years of age
He sits on his perch
Nothing can touch him
Nothing can hurt him
Eyes like daggers
Eyes as cold as ice
Talons sharp like fire
Swift, keen, he waits
The parent blackbird
Shrieking in despair
Dives in again and again at him
Unscathed, he sits, waits, and watches
Without warning, he faints
Falling onto his prey
Talons and beak
Tearing into flesh
Stripping away the life
As I stood next to him
We talked about things
Gazing out into the lake
We were like lifelong friends
I asked him, "why are you fearless?"
The reply came from within his eyes
It was his domain, his territory, his life
A reply in simplest of terms
For the hawk, nothing is complex
After you have stripped away the flesh
Rewrite - Present Day. 20 years of age.
The sharp eyes pierce the veil of the day
Sitting on his perch, he silently waits
The singing trees grow quiet at his presence
The target in sight- the nest cradled
In the boughs of naked limbs is the victim
Of his narrowed gaze; silence is deafening
Unsheathed talons slice the air, death
In their grasp as the screams of the
Victims erupt from the noiseless space
Diving to and fro, the mother's desperate
Attempts to salvage the lives are useless in
The winged fury of the red-brown beast
The dagger-like beak tears away the
Life from the little ones. Feathers float
Gently to the ground- the silence returns
The fearlessness resonates in the air
Between the great beast and I. Earth,
Air, Trees. The great domain of the hawk
I walked to where the bones lay and
Find little chalk outlines. The flesh is gone.
Remaining only the simplest form of things.
And what have we left when our flesh has
Been devoured and dried up? The structures of
Our forms, the purest and most exemplary.
Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 1:47 PM UTC
Bleeding In my own wold
I am serene
I am ******* buddah
An exemplary exhibit of how
To be calm in a storm
How to stand on my own in the waves
That crush my shoulders
That smash my chest
That bring me to my knees
**** the rules
And I defy the gods of this world
I raise my voice
In a defiant hymn
I rebel
I exist through my will
And I will not be brought low
I am flesh blood and bone
I am because I am
And my thoughts roam these
Unsavory waters
I will fight these demons
I will become what I may
And relentless I will purge
My soul
I scream till my eyes bleed
And I know what it means
To eat the heart of my enemies
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 10:48 PM UTC
I'm no less than a lion-hearted soul
Who lives by high heroic skills,
Courageously fights off jackals,
And rescues victims with flawless charisma
But I ain't less than a dignified warrior
The most Blessed Teacher, an exemplary
Has taught me
About a weapon
Which has been the answer to infinite sorrows
dreamy desires and unthinkable perils
I've used it to cheer up saddened souls
And to relieve the unrelieved
It is my light
It is the weapon to divert from hapless ends
it is the key to unlock the gates of Mercy
It is otherwise known as Dua
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 7:17 AM UTC