All that there is


In the race of life, men compete for vanity
Truncated humanity is our major disability
Toils of blood is the new gain of the bourgeois
The middle east is a testing ground for weapons
Now peace only exists in greetings like salaam



The perfect definition of life
Slicing through my day like a knife
Out of nowhere it pricked my stimuli
The aura of her steps as she moved timidly
She must have seen the reaction in my oculi



Like the still waters of a river,
That is suddenly disrupted
By the leap of fish or the spurt of weeds
Is how he comes forth, to leap or spurt
In the still waters of my thoughts


As lust as i have been,
I am scene, the sin of a beautiful fire.
The trauma in between
Letting go and chasing a desire
is naught for imagination.


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