War in Sool
- Thread starter warside
- Start date
Subhanallah they’re all going crazy
Isaaq beauty becomes the first of her kind to exhibit signs of common sense
War dhiiga uu rabo halo keeno vampire kaan ooman
baroorka ha joojiyeDhiig dhiig dhiig!
Acudubillahi binu adam mahan miya
God damn 
He replaced his late father who was more cultured man.
Capo Dhoore
⚔️
Terrorist Cali Barre run from his wife. Her worried son calls from idooria
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Wale Reer Bicidyahan way qaniimaysteen
So MJ all went back to their Cities right away, war the Job is not done yet, we want Burco
In the heart of Somali's arid expanse, A tale unfolds of clans' arrogance. Isaaq and Harti, their rivalry ablaze, In a clash of egos, they set ablaze.
Isaaq's tears flowed like a desert stream, Screaming of power, a fleeting dream. "We'll behead Daroods," they boast so loud, A nuclear power? A laugh from the crowd.
Lost in delusions of grandeur's embrace, Reality struck, a swift, humbling chase. Ninety clicks vanished in two short hours, Isaaq's bravado shattered, their might devoured.
Calling for troops, a desperate plea, But what's left to fight? A hollow decree. Goojacadde's meat grinder chewed them whole, Child soldiers surrounded, paying the toll.
Dhulbahante's patience, a stark contrast, Pleading for peace, a plea unsurpassed. Isaaq's heedless march, a fatal misstep, Their prideful advance, a bet they'd regret.
Weapons lost, an army in decline, Isaaq's bluster faded, a fall so divine. Seventy percent of their force erased, From triumphant roars to a pitiful chase.
Capture and defeat, a bitter pill to swallow, Once mighty keyboard warriors, now prey to follow. Nomads scour the land, seeking the lost, Isaaq's self-inflicted drought, a heavy cost.
So let this be a lesson, a tale to tell, Of arrogance crumbled, of mighty that fell. In Somali's desert, a story of pride, Isaaq's downfall, in sands they hide.
Isaaq's tears flowed like a desert stream, Screaming of power, a fleeting dream. "We'll behead Daroods," they boast so loud, A nuclear power? A laugh from the crowd.
Lost in delusions of grandeur's embrace, Reality struck, a swift, humbling chase. Ninety clicks vanished in two short hours, Isaaq's bravado shattered, their might devoured.
Calling for troops, a desperate plea, But what's left to fight? A hollow decree. Goojacadde's meat grinder chewed them whole, Child soldiers surrounded, paying the toll.
Dhulbahante's patience, a stark contrast, Pleading for peace, a plea unsurpassed. Isaaq's heedless march, a fatal misstep, Their prideful advance, a bet they'd regret.
Weapons lost, an army in decline, Isaaq's bluster faded, a fall so divine. Seventy percent of their force erased, From triumphant roars to a pitiful chase.
Capture and defeat, a bitter pill to swallow, Once mighty keyboard warriors, now prey to follow. Nomads scour the land, seeking the lost, Isaaq's self-inflicted drought, a heavy cost.
So let this be a lesson, a tale to tell, Of arrogance crumbled, of mighty that fell. In Somali's desert, a story of pride, Isaaq's downfall, in sands they hide.
In Somali's realm, a tangled web we weave, Isaaq's claims of power, hard to believe. While Dervishes stood strong, their legacy bold, Isaaq's true allegiance, a story untold.
Isaaq's claims to Dervishes, a twisted tale, Yet in truth, their loyalty often frail. Basking in the shadow of a foreign hand, Isaaq's strength, a product of another's command.
Dervishes, warriors of valor and might, Fought for their land, in day and night. Isaaq, a puppet in a foreign game, Their power, a mirage, a facade, and a shame.
As history's pages unfold the truth, Isaaq's servitude to the powerful uncouth. Dervishes' legacy remains ever strong, While Isaaq's allegiance proves to be wrong.
So let this tale remind us all, Of power's illusions, of puppetry's fall. Dervishes' honor, in history preserved, Isaaq's claims and actions, to be observed.
Isaaq's claims to Dervishes, a twisted tale, Yet in truth, their loyalty often frail. Basking in the shadow of a foreign hand, Isaaq's strength, a product of another's command.
Dervishes, warriors of valor and might, Fought for their land, in day and night. Isaaq, a puppet in a foreign game, Their power, a mirage, a facade, and a shame.
As history's pages unfold the truth, Isaaq's servitude to the powerful uncouth. Dervishes' legacy remains ever strong, While Isaaq's allegiance proves to be wrong.
So let this tale remind us all, Of power's illusions, of puppetry's fall. Dervishes' honor, in history preserved, Isaaq's claims and actions, to be observed.
It's not even entertaining for me, I'm repulsed by these people, they are beyond pathetic. This is @0117 and @SirLancelLord uncle by the way, Qawdhan the third.
that's crazy how u run from u own wife, what cowardUnbelievable
