ayhams

Writing

Educator

I want to be a teacher, so could feel like God. / Where some go to me, everyone depend on me / And all blaspheme / Against me, but I would not even know.

loving hands

The thought of her embracing / Make me weep. / And sadness courses though my veins / Like Moorish stallions invading into new land She provokes my muse / Whose cold craving touch burns like hell.…

The Morning

O’ So strange the sight of morning! / When golden sun singles life / Where sparrows fly / Like Eden’s children flirting / With the limitless sky. / And majestic trees stand lofty, / Solemn and sta…

Watchlist

  • Rebecka Wärja
  • mugshot
  • coffeebean
  • Cadence
  • Michelle Boyer