Poetry is a language Of powerful thoughts and imagery, it can strike in the heart of man, it can shape lives and actions. Then can it not be used to enhance to the finder qualities of man? Rather than providing shallow enjoyment? And promoting the baser instincts? If I was a poet, I would like my words To compell the soul, To pursue the true pupose of existence. Oh, what wouldn’t I give to go on collecting my reward, Beyond this life....

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Night of Power

11-11-04

A night better than thousand months.
A night to change our destiny, to shape our future.
A night to pray, to beg for forgiveness.
A night to shed tears, to kneel in repentance.
A night of blessing, a night so rare,
Once every year, it is here.
But which night it is, we do not know.
The last five odd nights- we must follow.
……………………incomplete

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