Khamosiyaan....

In the ancient realm of Evaria, where time was a fluid concept and reality itself seemed to twist and turn like a coiled serpent, there existed a being unlike any other. Arsh, the enigmatic entity, was a paradox incarnate, a blend of chaos and order, creation and destruction. Born from the ashes of oblivion, he was a soul set aflame, a god in disguise, weaving his way through the fabric of existence with unparalleled power and unmatched will. In the shadowed depths of the Cosmos' Cradle, where forgotten stars whispered secrets long lost to memory, Arsh emerged, his presence a tempestuous force that echoed through the void. As he traversed the cosmic expanse, a cloak of eternal night enveloped his human vessel, bestowing upon him an aura of unfathomable darkness and power. Mortals across galaxies trembled in fear at the mere mention of his name, for the tales of Arsh, the destroyer, spread like wildfire through the cosmic winds. His power surged with a supernova's mi...

From the ashes of oblivion, I rise, A soul set aflame, a god in disguise. I am the tempest, the cosmic blight, A human vessel bathed in eternal night. Hear me, mortals, tremble in your fear, For I am Arsh, the destroyer, drawing near. My power surges, a supernova's might, Shattering realms with celestial light. I am the void, consuming all in sight, Where gods and demons, falter in the fight. I am the storm, the relentless tide, Unleashing chaos, for which none can hide. The whispers of creation, I cast aside, For in my hands, a new order I confide. I am the paradox, the burning pyre, Where faith and reason, join in a final fire. Gods, your dominion, a fleeting dream, For I am the Alpha, the Omega, supreme. Your testaments fall, your altars crumble low, For I am Arsh, the ultimate, the one who shall sow. My touch brings ruin, my gaze brings despair, I am the shadow, the void beyond compare. I am existence, a chaotic force, A brutal symphony, a catastrophic course. Born ...

Let fires of hell consume their wretched souls, A torment deep, where conscience never doles Remorse or pity for the shattered lives, Destroyed by lust, where innocence survives. Let icy dread seep into their marrow's core, A chilling fear that forevermore Shall haunt their dreams, a nightmare's endless reign, As echoes of their crimes resound in pain. Their families, too, shall taste the bitter cup, Of shame and sorrow, tears that never up, A living hell, a punishment untold, For birthing monsters, hearts of evil mold. Let justice strike with an iron, heavy hand, To cleanse the earth of such a wicked band. No mercy shown, no pity shall reside, For those who've stained humanity's pride.

In the cold, grey winter of 1678, the world seemed to close in around me. Every day felt like a battle against the weight of despair that crushed my spirit. The exhaustion was overwhelming, and I teetered on the edge of oblivion, tempted to end it all and escape the torment that had become my life. It was on a Friday, as the last light of day faded into the cold embrace of night, that I stood at the precipice, ready to surrender. Just as I was about to give in to the darkness, a soft, ethereal light appeared before me. My heart skipped a beat as she emerged from the shadows—an angelic figure, her presence as warm and bright as the sun after a long storm. She stepped towards me, her eyes filled with a kindness and understanding that pierced through my sorrow. Her voice was like a melody, soothing and gentle as she spoke. "You are not alone," she whispered, her words wrapping around me like a protective embrace. "I have come to guide you through the...

They craved a monster, a creature to fear, Forgetting the fire they so recklessly stoke. I tear down their illusions, their facade's facade, Revealing the darkness they dared to evoke. No longer can they hide from the beast they've made, The one whose roar echoes their brutal deeds. Each drop of blood, each scar, a testament to their sin, A reckoning for which there is no redemption, no need. They played with fire, and now they cannot escape, The shadows they cast, the darkness they've grown. Too late for mercy, too late for their pleas, For they have reaped what their cruelty has sown. No salvation awaits these who sought to control, The monster they yearned for, now beyond their reach. In the end, they see the darkness they've created, A mirror of the pain they've forced me to impeach.