غربة الروح بين يدي God" as if, since the dawn of Genesis, I have been looking f

غربة الروح بين يدي God"

as if, since the dawn of Genesis, I have been looking for.
as if there were souls inside me that followed the house,
Pray to one Lord,
But it differs in the way I cry to him.

أمشي بثقل الأسئلة لا الذنوب،
أنطقُ بحروفٍ لم أخلقها،
وأبكي لأنني أشعر،
وأشعر لأن God نفخ فيّ من روحه.

whenever I look in the mirror, I have seen incomplete copies of me.
I see a face asking me: Who are you?
I have no answer except: a slave who tries to understand himself in order to understand his Lord.

. My memory is like a book whose pages were copied from stories I don't remember having experienced,
But every ink in it leads me to one name:
God.

I was only an idea of knowing it,
It was only a mistake that I thought was a sin,
Then forgive me before I ask,
And inspire me to repent before I fall.

أنا لا أفهم كل ما يجري في داخلي،
لكنّي أعلم أن الخالق لا يضيع عبده،
وأنّ التيه، في حضرة God،
عبادة.

for those who live in confusion,
Who are you wondering: "whether I am a reality or an echo?",
Know that a stranger is not measured by his location, but by the direction of his search.
and that the souls that wriggle in the shadows of awareness,
In fact, they are satellites that search for their sun.
. There is no sun but a certainty that is born when all the masks fall,
When you leave, no escape, but longing.

فإذا ضاقت بك المسافة بينك وبينك،
فاجعل من حيرتك سلّمًا،
ومن سجدتك وطنًا،
فGod لا يُضيّع من خُلِقَ على هيئة سؤالٍ،
وقضى عمره يبحث عن الجواب فيه."

. Create a picture on which this text is written in a neat and beautiful manner and is in accurate detail and without spelling errors.

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غربة الروح بين يدي God" as if , since the dawn of Genesis , I have been looking for . as if there were souls inside me that followed the house , Pray to one Lord , But it differs in the way I cry to him . أمشي بثقل الأسئلة لا الذنوب، أنطقُ بحروفٍ لم أخلقها، وأبكي لأنني أشعر، وأشعر لأن God نفخ فيّ من روحه . whenever I look in the mirror , I have seen incomplete copies of me . I see a face asking me: Who are you ? I have no answer except: a slave who tries to understand himself in order to understand his Lord . . My memory is like a book whose pages were copied from stories I don't remember having experienced , But every ink in it leads me to one name: God . I was only an idea of knowing it , It was only a mistake that I thought was a sin , Then forgive me before I ask , And inspire me to repent before I fall . أنا لا أفهم كل ما يجري في داخلي، لكنّي أعلم أن الخالق لا يضيع عبده، وأنّ التيه، في حضرة God، عبادة . for those who live in confusion , Who are you wondering: "whether I am a reality or an echo ? " , Know that a stranger is not measured by his location , but by the direction of his search . and that the souls that wriggle in the shadows of awareness , In fact , they are satellites that search for their sun . . There is no sun but a certainty that is born when all the masks fall , When you leave , no escape , but longing . فإذا ضاقت بك المسافة بينك وبينك، فاجعل من حيرتك سلّمًا، ومن سجدتك وطنًا، فGod لا يُضيّع من خُلِقَ على هيئة سؤالٍ، وقضى عمره يبحث عن الجواب فيه . " . Create a picture on which this text is written in a neat and beautiful manner and is in accurate detail and without spelling errors .

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688X1024

Date

Apr 10, 2025

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Studio

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cell

Checkpoint & LoRA

SeaArt Infinity

SeaArt Infinity

#model westernrealism

#SeaArt Infinity

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