H̶a̶p̶p̶e̶n̶s̶t̶a̶n̶c̶e̶

Insight, philosophy, Poem, Poetry, thoughts, Uncategorized

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦?

𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧

𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥

𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦.

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨,

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘦𝘴,

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘦𝘶𝘷𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 – 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦.

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴,

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘥𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵

𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦,

𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘰,

𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴,

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴.

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯,

𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺

𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘺, 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦,

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭,

𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴,

𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦… 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦.

1818 – قوة تضامنية

philosophy, Poem, Poetry, thoughts

Raise your voice and speak.
Speak for those without speech, stand for those without feet,
cry for those who won’t weep,
fight for those you can’t see
and hope for those who don’t dream.

While you love your sons, remember the mothers, while you guide your daughters, don’t forget the brothers.
He whom love left, those abandoned by freedom.
She who’s bombarded with visions, disenfranchised by systems, enamoured by false wisdom, entrapped by mental prisons.

Never forget the voiceless.
For your voices power is reliant on its relationship to the lack there of for others. For the power in your word is plural and of universal consequence.
Never forget the voiceless.
For he who ignores oppression does so at his own peril, as all rights are merely privileges in the face of tyranny.

𝒱𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝒪𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒻𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓈𝑒𝒹

Insight, Poem, Poetry, thoughts, Uncategorized

The dreams of a young idealist, how brutal and cold this world can be.

How firm and resolute it’s grip may stay, with each passing day my ideals decay.

Since long I’ve denounced religion, yet my state remains, so in this state, I find I pray.

‘If an answer exists let it be revealed, if ignorance is bliss, then a burden it is. But, if happiness is this, I want no part.’

A young idealist, for years to come, I’ll walk my path, a lonely one.

I’ll keep this hope, if only that,

to speak truth to power and understand that actions are neither static nor binary.

Understand that without friction there is no change and during those times I pray;

‘Though my existence is not perfect, I live in peace, with shelter and hope, the chance to dream. And oh to the extent to which I am free, if my freedom is lynched to the infringement of that of others, then is it not our duty to speak for our Sisters and Brothers?’

𝐵𝓊𝓈𝓎 𝐼𝓃 𝒲𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝒱𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝒪𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒻𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓈𝑒𝒹

war