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  2d Deb Jones
Mustafa
Who am I in this world we call Earth, and our home
By species, I am a human being, supposedly master of all other species
We were made to look after and care for this planet called Earth

Instead we have ravaged, plundered and ***** the planet earth
In our blind quest to obtain control and dominance over all

Are humans masters or slaves of their egos, their pride
Humans believe they are invincible, they can do anything, to anyone
Man's greatest enemy is man himself, a beast beyond all beasts
So, who am I, man, the master or man, the beast of all beasts

I am two sides of the same coin, the master and the beast
There is a struggle inside of me for dominance, for control
Sometimes the master wins, other times the beast wins


I fear, I fear the beast will gain control and dominance over me
I have seen the power of the beast unleashed, a madness, a rage
A madness, a rage only a beast from hell can possess, it scares me

So, who am I, man, the master or the beast from hell
It's very difficult to know, as I keep changing all the time
Will someone please tell me, please tell me, please tell me
Who am I, Who am I, Who am I
I have written this poem seeing the state of the world currently. Everywhere you see human beings are engaged in a power struggle to dominate and control the world.
My world feels hollow, lost in gray,
Where light has long since slipped away.
No sun to warm, no hope in sight—
Just endless rain that dims the night.

I’m drowning in my silent cries,
Each heartbeat echoing my lies.
No one sees the pain I hide—
They miss the part of me that’s died.

Do we cry to heal the soul,
Or just to fill an empty role?
Is it grief we can’t explain,
Or missing one we loved in vain?

Laughter came, but couldn’t stay.
Hugs wiped a tear, then turned away.
This ache won’t leave—I don’t know why.
I beg it just to say goodbye.
Your heart whispers spells into the silence,
soft incantations only my soul understands.
Each beat—a charm that binds me closer,
a melody no wind could ever carry away.

If I could paint the sorcery in your eyes,
even the sky would bow to their light.
They hold galaxies I’ve never known,
yet somehow, they feel like home.

This love—unwritten in the stars,
beyond logic, beyond reach—still finds me.
I try to unweave the dream,
but the threads are stitched into my being.

No spell could erase you now.
You live in the pages of my days,
in every shadow that dances at dusk,
in every dawn that calls your name.

You are not a chapter—I cannot turn this page.
You are the story that rewrote mine.
Sparrow are singing,
My heart is in two pieces.
Roses are dead, violets are dying,
Outside am smiling , inside am crying.
You don't know who is hurt,
You just don't know how it feels Every, memory is not a battle.
He would hide the pain,
behind a broken smile.
My poems are my feelings,
my head is my land.
Don't know what to do,
With this unmanageable hand,
Filled with magical gifts of emotions.
Memories linger, vivid as yesterday,
Yet slip through my fingers, like sand swept away.
Oh, to turn back the clock, to cradle the past,
To savor each moment, make every heartbeat last.
The world weighs heavy, a quiet disconnection,
Smiles wear thin, shadows breed introspection.
But in nature’s embrace, I find quiet release,
Where sea breezes murmur and forest songs bring peace.
In meadows of emerald, I rest with the bees,
Their soft hum a balm, their rhythm a breeze.
Through life’s restless chaos, I’ll carve out my way,
Guided by starlight on clear midnight’s stay.
And with every sunset, I’ll dance wild and free,
A quiet joy blooming, fierce inside me.
This is for the ones who wake up tired,
but rise anyway.
For the quiet fighters—
the ones who dream in silence,
who carry storms in their chest
but still offer calm to the world.
For the hearts that have been broken,
but still dare to hope.
For the souls who have failed,
been laughed at, overlooked, underestimated—
but show up, again and again.
You are not behind.
You are not too late.
You are exactly where your strength is built—
in the struggle,
in the doubt,
in the ache of becoming more than anyone expected.
One day, the cracks will glow,
the scars will shine,
and the world will ask,
“How did you do it?”
And you will answer,
“I kept going… when no one was watching.”
There is a heart beneath the hearts,
Where no candle burns, no voice dares sing—
It keeps the ache of unsent letters,
And the weight of words we never bring.

It mourns in moments no clock remembers,
And bleeds in places no scar will show.
It stitches itself with threads of silence,
And smiles while no one cares to know.

Yet in its quiet, it holds the universe,
The prayers unspoken, the dreams turned grey.
A heart like this—unknown, unseen—
Is where the brightest stars are born each day.
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