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Noor-E- Adan Poem
The weary traveler seeks a place to rest
He wandered past and found a stately tree
Enchanted, sat beneath its shade impressed
The wind whispered in his ears to see
The beauty of the forest at its best
He looked and looked, and felt his soul in glee
With heart content, he started soft to hymn
And told the tales of his quest so grim.
Copyright © Noor-e- Adan | Year Posted 2025
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Noor-E- Adan Poem
The sun begins the day,
Providing light to guide my way.
Yet still, I stumble upon
The weight of customs, illusions drawn.
I break each chain, one by one,
Unveiling life self-woven, undone.
Free from the weight of old deceits,
I walk where truth and freedom meet.
Vibrant as the flame within my core,
A light that whispers: “You are more.”
Nature, my guide, in canyon deep,
I breathe in silence, where rivers sweep.
Life flows on, a current bold,
Untamed, unbent, and uncontrolled.
With every step, I rise and see,
The light of Self, wild and free.
No agenda rests, no shelf to fill,
Just life unfolding, as it will.
Copyright © Noor-e- Adan | Year Posted 2025
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Noor-E- Adan Poem
Borders are lines drawn in dust,
but the wails of war ride the wind—
no map can contain a scream.
War does not choose a side;
it is a fire that devours both hearth and forest.
One body may bleed,
but the other's soul turns to ash.
From far behind velvet curtains
and polished screens,
war looks like a chessboard—
moves, strategy, gain.
But at the front,
it is the breaking of mothers,
the hollowing of eyes,
the earth drinking youth
like a thirsty beast.
To desire war
is to kiss the mouth of a storm
and expect calm.
It is to strike a match
and pray for shade.
To crave war
is to summon violence,
and violence
has never cradled peace.
Violence is never the solution—
it is the echo of failure,
the shatter of reason,
the road that leads nowhere
but ruin.
Copyright © Noor-e- Adan | Year Posted 2025
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