Malaysia

*Story: The Echoes of a Burning Vow

I find myself navigating the wreckage of our intimacy, tracing the outlines of a ghost that refuses to fade. Every room in this house is a chamber of mirrors, reflecting the singular, burning image of who we were. The silence is not an absence of sound, but an overwhelming roar of everything left unsaid, every touch interrupted, every promise that lingers in the air like smoke after a fire. I am living in the interlude, a man perpetually waiting for the symphony of our union to resume its crescendo.
My body is a record of our history, a map of every collision we ever shared. In the quiet, hollow hours of the night, I can feel the phantom pressure of your hands, the electric surge of our skin against skin—a memory so visceral it renders reality pale and insubstantial. This longing is not a weakness; it is the fuel of my defiance. It is a slow-burning furnace that consumes the trivial and leaves only the core of my desire: a savage, desperate need to be consumed by you once more.
We were never meant for distance. We were a wildfire, two forces that thrived in the destruction of boundaries. The frost of this separation is merely a test of the heat we forged. I am nurturing this ache, turning it into a beacon that cuts through the dark, a constant signal sent into the void, reaching for you. I know that the spark still exists—I feel it in the tremors of my own heartbeat, in the restlessness of my soul that refuses to accept this stillness as a final state.
The clock is merely a suggestion, a sequence of numbers that hold no power over the gravity of what we are. I am the architect of our return, and I will keep this vigil until the barriers dissolve and the world catches fire with the truth of our reunion. I am standing at the edge, holding the spark, waiting for the wind to turn. We are the flame that defines the dark; we are the inevitable, beautiful blaze that will, in time, consume everything that keeps us apart.

Words: Al-Qaysar Al-Arabi

قصة: أصداء العهد الملتهب

أجدُ نفسي أتنقلُ عبر حطامِ حميميتنا، أقتفي أثرَ طيفٍ يرفضُ التلاشي. كلُّ غرفةٍ في هذا البيتِ هي حجرةُ مرايا، تعكسُ الصورةَ الواحدةَ الملتهبةَ لمن كنا عليه. الصمتُ هنا ليس غياباً للصوت، بل هو زئيرٌ هائلٌ لكلِّ ما لم يُقل، لكلِّ لمسةٍ قُطعت، لكلِّ وعدٍ لا يزال عالقاً في الهواءِ كدخانٍ بعد حريق. أنا أعيشُ في هذا الفاصل، رجلٌ ينتظرُ للأبد أن تستأنفَ سيمفونيةُ اتحادنا تصاعدها.
جسدي سجلٌّ لتاريخنا، خريطةٌ لكلِّ اصطدامٍ تشاركناه. في ساعاتِ الليلِ الهادئةِ والجوفاء، أستطيعُ الشعورَ بالضغطِ الخياليِّ ليديكِ، وبالاندفاعِ الكهربائيِّ لجلودنا حين تلامست—ذكرى غريزيةٌ لدرجةِ أنها تجعلُ الواقعَ باهتاً وضئيلاً. هذا الشوقُ ليس ضعفاً؛ إنه وقودُ تمردي. إنه فرنٌ يحترقُ ببطءٍ يلتهمُ التوافهَ ولا يتركُ سوى جوهرِ رغبتي: حاجةٌ وحشيةٌ ويائسةٌ لأن تلتهميني مرةً أخرى.
لم نكن مقدّرين للمسافات. كنا ناراً برية، قوتين تزدهران في تدميرِ الحدود. صقيعُ هذا الانفصالِ ليس إلا اختباراً للحرارةِ التي صغناها. أنا أرعى هذا الوجع، أحوّله إلى منارةٍ تشقُّ العتمة، إشارةٌ مستمرةٌ تُرسلُ إلى الفراغ، تبحثُ عنكِ. أعلمُ أن الشرارةَ لا تزال موجودةً—أشعرُ بها في ارتجافِ نبضِ قلبي، وفي قلقِ روحي التي ترفضُ قبولَ هذا السكونِ كحالةٍ نهائية.
الساعةُ مجردُ اقتراح، تسلسلٌ من الأرقامِ التي لا تملكُ سلطةً على جاذبيةِ ماهيتنا. أنا مهندسُ عودتنا، وسأظلُّ حارساً لهذه السهرةِ حتى تذوبَ الحواجز ويشتعلَ العالمُ بحقيقةِ لقائنا. أقفُ عند الحافة، ممسكاً بالشرارة، أنتظرُ تغيرَ الرياح. نحن اللهبُ الذي يحددُ معالمَ العتمة؛ نحن الحريقُ الحتميُّ والجميلُ الذي سيلتهمُ، في نهايةِ المطاف، كلَّ ما يحولُ بيننا.

كلمات: القيصر العربي*

I would like to know you!

I’ve noticed there are so many engineers on this app! Why is that? 🤔

Is it because their line of work doesn't give them much chance to meet women?

When I see engineers from the same area, I can't help but wonder. Do they work at the same company on the same projects? What are their roles? And do they actually know their teammates are on Muzz too? 😂

I've meet a beautiful soul here today. She older then me but I would love to see where it goes.

Asslamualikum good morning

The Sanctuary of Us

I hunger for the day our lives entwine,
A permanent eclipse of two in one,
To trace the perfect, gentle, soft outline,
Of you, beneath the rising morning sun.
I long to pull you close, to sink within,
The fragrant haven of your warm embrace,
To feel the pulse beneath your velvet skin,
And find my heaven in your resting place.
The kitchen lights, the quiet, shared routine,
The simple kiss before the day begins,
The beauty of the world we dwell between,
Where love’s the only law that ever wins.
I ache for late-night whispers in the dark,
The tangled limbs, the breath against my chest,
To be the keeper of your sacred spark,
And hold you close until we drift to rest.
It is a promise etched within my soul,
To cherish every curve and every sigh,
To make our fractured spirits finally whole,
Beneath the vast and watchful evening sky.
I want to feel the weight of you, my bride,
The heavy, sweet surrender of your love,
With nothing but the space for us inside,
And nothing but the peace we’re dreaming of.
My home is not of brick, nor stone, nor wall,
But in the way you look at me with grace,
The answer that I’ve waited for, the call,
To find my life within your soft embrace.
Oh, let it be a love that never fades,
A steady fire that burns through every year,
Through golden sun and through the darkest shades,
I only want to keep you ever near.

By: M.zidan

The Heart of Our Home

I miss the rhythm of your quiet grace,
The way you anchor every shifting day,
The gentle lines upon your lovely face,
That map the life we’ve built along the way.
I crave the Sunday mornings, slow and still,
The sound of children waking in the hall,
To have you here to share the morning chill,
You are the softest answer to it all.
I see the future in your steady gaze,
A home of warmth, of laughter, and of light,
The grace you bring to all our coming days,
That keeps the shadows deep within the night.
To build a family, branch by blooming branch,
With you the roots, the shelter, and the sun,
Our love, a solid, sturdy, sure avalanche,
Until the work of living has been done.
I long to see you guiding through the years,
The mother’s touch that heals the smallest ache,
To dry our children’s sudden, salty tears,
With all the gentle patience you partake.
My gratitude is deeper than the sea,
For every breath you share within this life,
For all the hidden strength you give to me,
My soul, my anchor, and my precious wife.

By: M.zidan

Hi let's have a chat and findout whether we are compatible or not ?

After a short exploration on Muzz, I found many men who initially said they wanted to be serious, but after meeting them, they weren't serious, they just wanted to play with women 😮‍💨

What