Within My Life

I’ll never, forever, ever be, What you were beloved to me, I’ll never plead to the heavens to recreate you, I know you were a beautiful lie, But you could never bear to be true. You’ll never be true ever, But just lie to me forever, So I just wished one wish, For you to... Continue Reading →


The Blogger’s Experience Meet

It's time for the first event in the month of June, when this website, Aaliyah's Wishland, celebrates it's birthday. And this event is designed especially to commemorate memorable experiences of blogging, and of nurturing a website. Last June, when I created Aaliyah's Wishland, I never did see how it would turn out. I just came... Continue Reading →

1 year of writing

This June, on this website, we are celebrating the completion of Aaliyah's Wishland's first year of writing. The aim of this blog was to communicate through writing, and show writing in a way that the world appreciates it's beauty. 1 year with this mission in mind is complete. This June- on the 8th- Aaliyah's wishland... Continue Reading →


Splinters of fine wood apart, Continues from the ancient start, Havens in the skies of gold, New corpses with flowers to hold. Crosses in the graveyard be, Underneath a single tall palm tree, Flying in the air-borne noise, Playing with an angel's toys. Stairs to hell, and carpets to heaven, For all those who were... Continue Reading →


La fille est tres belle, elle est sympathique, Elle s'appelle Joanne, le bel nom, Mais, elle est triste, oui, mecontent, La vie de Joanne est mourir. Elle etait une contente fille, Habite a Lyon en France, Elle crie, mais non, elle, habite en sa laide vie. Sa brune cheveux a vole dans l'air, Sa rouge... Continue Reading →

The Definition Of Love

Love is what you think of hatred, Love is what you make it out to be. Love is what you think of while you waited, Love is what you think of you and me. Love is the sky, love is your soul, Love is the earth, love is your sole, Comforter, and your heart. Love... Continue Reading →


La fille marchent le long de la route ensoleille. Les fleurs fleurirent, et les oiseaux chantent. La fille s'appelle Matilda. Elle a une enfance tres triste. Les parents de Matilda etaient morts. Depuis, elle ne parle pas. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .... Continue Reading →

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑