Wholeheartedly

poetry

Sorrow

As these tears fall for

lives it has not known

and this heavy heart weeps

sorrow for souls

it has not met.

Another, has tears for

a loved one's life and

another, feels crumbs of a

residue from a shattered heart.

What happened to mercy, humanity,

peace, love?

Where has all that gone?

Let us stand united as one nation

instead of pointing fingers and making 'smart' remarks.

#prayersforGaza

#prayersforMH17

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, by FNI

poetry

it was fleeting.
like being graced by the presence
that of a butterfly.
brief, short. but
ever so special.
so beautiful that for
a moment you believed
you were, too.
simply because
it picked you. how could it
something so delicate think
to even alight upon a trifling floater.
a nomad. vagabond. meandering through this
loaded heart with such apathy.
pity. such an enchanting organism chose
to settle for a soul with
a zest in life so minute,
akin to a futile microorganism.
but 'twas brief,
as the butterfly fluttered away
you become insignificant once more. not
special neither beautiful. you lost
your spark, remaining lackluster throughout the
wreckage of your feeble heart.

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, by FNI

life

Belle. Amour.

It's beautiful how memories can be triggered simply by olfaction. How

the brain specifically stores all these smell to memory somewhere along the lobes, the

valley and trenches, along the cortex of the pisiform. A bulb that switches on as that

of a light bulb when a single whiff passes by the cavity, the tendons, the cartilages

of your nose.

I know this smell that is so familiar to me that when I do smell it, it brings me back

to a time when I was no more than 18 years old, still in high school, among all

those lockers and double-decker beds, waiting impatiently for the weekends, just

so I can see my parents and threaten to never

let them go.

How there was this one time when I couldn't wear a certain deodorant around my brother because

I knew it would bring him memories of a girl that he loved like he'd never love before. His every cell,

pints of blood and all his soul emitting the same love for her whilst she

took it all for granted. Giving him a quarter of hers when he gave her all of his. How did I know? He simply

told me.

-That's the deodorant that she uses. Get that, it smells good.

That's how I knew he was a goner. Wanting to smell the fragrance of a lover as a constant.
That was love.

And also how you associate a certain smell to someone. My mother wears this one perfume all the time.
She has so many but she still

uses the same one every time that for me, that was her smell. To a point of
sheer stubbornness that when I smell that same smell on someone else,

to me it was still my mother. That's my mother.

-So what do you remember most about your mother?

-J'Adore. My mother smelled of J'Adore.

Now isn't that beautiful.

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, by FNI

poetry

21/3

With a heavy heart,

I let you go.

I press play. I see

a big screen. I see

our memories. I see

our stories. I see

our dreams.

But I have to let go.

I need

to let go.

I shall rest, for I know

you are in His embrace.

You are in good hands, for He

is The Guardian (المهيمن- AlMuhaymin).

You can rest easy, for He

is The All-Compassionate (الرحمن- AlRahman).

I press stop. Instead of

replaying. I press stop.

You are forever

in my memories, forever

in my heart, forever

in my prayers.

I am letting go.

This is my farewell.

"To the Almighty we do belong,

and to Him we shall return." [2:156]

P.S:

I may be slightly late in posting this,

but this is for World Poetry Day!

Writing poetry the best way I know how and falling more in love

with poetry day by day;

exploring, experimenting, and learning new ways to express myself

through poetry.

This is for all those poets and poetry-lovers out there.

Keep the love going, keep those words flowing!

I humbly hope you've all enjoyed my writings so far :)

P.P.S:
And while we're at it, my heartfelt and deepest condolences to all affected.
-prayersalwaysforMH370-

-FNI