so I become this wrought iron
that I have forged with my own two hands.
I sharpen myself,
tip to hilt.
but
my mouth,
the very blade that can cut the sky,
chose to speak in a healers' tone instead.
I remind myself
of the violence it took
to become 
this gentle.
this cup of earth in my hands,
with home beneath
my fingernails.
I remind myself
what it means to be
pierced to the marrow
...

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Started writing this piece of poetry

Wondering how to go with the flow

Lots of thoughts in my mind

Can’t wait for all of them to grow

As i now happen to grind 

How it shall go? I don’t even know

In the pursuit of getting it together

Those words went away from my mind for sometime

But it feels like forever

I wish i could write like her

For how she puts it altogeth...

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You are an artist

Every morning as your eyes open up
you reach for your paintbrush 
unknowingly

You are the canvas 
and your actions are the splatters
Inspired by your dreams 
and all to you that matters 

You bring to life the beauty that you think
Transforming the formless into reality
your desires turn to ink

Do not downplay the smaller things you do
as every single brushstro...

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I’ve been working on

Coming back from

The dead

Realising reality

Living in this world

Becoming me

I don’t have to know who I am

But I must know that I am

I am, I am, I am

I don’t have to know what I am

To deserve to be

I’m working on being,

Just being

Because I’ve been existing

Mindless, automatic, numb

Best autopilot, me

Coming back from the dead

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Move on / Build a Better You

Time moves forward
It never turns back
So why do we spend so much time
Stuck living in the past
Mistakes are only natural
Issues and problems to resolve
Without mistakes, problems and issues
We never would evolve
So try and be more positive
There’s nothing left to lose
The world is at your feet
Just walk the path you choose
Hold your head up high
There’...

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Twice she looked, and smiled 
I said: "Hello"... She replied 
Before she leaves, I said: “see you” 
She became blushed as the bride 

Again, we met after a minute 
I heard her lovely sighs 
I said: "you are....", she said: right” 
Shaking hands by sight 

Purely, she asked to know 
Are you Farag, Are you poet 
I said true.  But again we met 
To inspire me to write

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