- in the name of Allah -



I'm still human.


Fuck the cylces and the motors, just take me to a time when all the rollercoasting's over. A day passes and a sun rises then it sets and gradually the moon sows all the seeds of inability's regrets. I stay a path it seems only so long that I know how much it is what I really need, only to have my weakness peek around the corner and give trifling hopes a stake in the heart, burying pieces and parts in a tomb of finity's gloom. Where's consistency's shoulder when its my effort that falling cold, flat and impenetrable, like the bones and will of a war vet grown old. What if I was fated to die in a moment of forgetting, what'd become of all the things I planted but a Great Wall of Shortcomings? Right now its suffocating to be human, to be always breathing and choking in an asthmatic sea of self-made burden. Two seconds I'm free and above, then three hours I'm encaged and below, this is the test of life's little truffles every wise man intimately comes to know. To pass or fail, is there a choice in it of mine? Easily I would say I should pass, but then I see a mirror and it occurs to me the only way to find out is if I can last.