Digital art by @xpilar" Write a short poem about the picture and you will be rewarded"
I'm not good at putting my own words/writing on my "digital art",
so I'd appreciate it if you could write a little poem about
the picture here in the comment field and I will reward you 😊
Ends May 3, 2025
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STEEM-BINGO, a new game on Steem that rewards the player! 💰
Bingo Tickets
| 1. Tickets | 2. Tickets | 3. Tickets | 4. Tickets | 5. Tickets |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 20% upvote | 40% upvote | 60% upvote | 80% upvote | 100% upvote |
Prize pool:
80% of the pot goes to the winners, one draw per day
There are 4 winners each draw
DEVELOPED BY XPILAR TEAM - @xpilar.witness
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https://dice.worldofxpilar.com/
xpilar.witness
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$PUSS is the first memecoin on Steemit
I never saw a purple cow,
I never hope to see one,
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I’d rather see than be one!
Sometimes nature can be scary,
The sky changes it's colour,
The wind tells a different story,
The trees are looking strange,
Then you begin to wonder what is going on,
No one has an answer,
Hence the questions keep bothering you.
This beauty of the world will never be able to impress me,
Your beauty has impressed me,
I will always love you the way I love you,
This sky and air will always be a witness to our love.
At the end of a tired day, you,
like a touch of peace,
when I have you near me,
everything is achieved.
You are a free cry of fatigue,
you are a story of love,
when I have you in my life,
the troubles leave, little by little.
A cactus stands still,
waiting for the perfect time
it is always now.
Just as I see you in the sand of the sea,
I see you in the clouds of the sky,
The beauty of the world will never equal yours,
which always fascinates me.
La oscuridad espeluznante
no me deja percibir
la naturaleza desbordante
que sí existe y está allí.
Al mirar el infinito
puedo ver con sencillez
que luego de un amanecer
detrás viene un atardecer
como lo muestra el ocaso
antes de un grandioso anochecer.
"Desert's Last Breath"
The blue sky rain heavily in molten gold,
as the desert bend into the dusk.
Old cactus arms stretch for a fading warmth,
silent witnesses to a dying day.
The underground hums with forgotten songs,
the type the wind recalled and remembers .
Beyond the far last hill,
night waits with open hands
Sky turns orange,
Cactus stands tall,
Sand looks soft,
Evening feels calm.
"Voice coming from the West"
In the silence hour, where daylight dies,
Cobra stretch a salute to the skies.
A sky of amber fire and violet thread
Weavon a path where sun has chose to fled to dim away.
Motion of shadows move on silent wind,
A quiet hymn and moment across the land.
Lonely hill across and desert wide flat
Beauty blooms where dreams abide.