- in the name of Allah -


What would clouds be without rain, if no drops fell to earth, how would grasses grown green, where'd love blossom if not from hurt? why don't shadows ever complain to lights, how they aught to be seen more, whether day or night? no, each taking turns in the spotlight, playing their parts on stage, like fine wines never to be drank, adorning the covers of life's games. alas for roles, these never seem to have ending, each person or purpose, needing endlessly to be attended, whether refined or raw, whether hare or tortoise. how many patiently dawdle, time dwindling, looking for merriment or marvel, finding neither but distractions aplenty with truths entombed in sparkling marble. my ticks never tock for the social, no external needs impressed onto mine just because someone else's drink needs flavor or some rogue needs a purse to swindle, nope, my clock chimes only for reasons mine. in this I find no acceptance from any, though I desire it not I seek it somewhat as by nature intending, reflexively unadept at melding two discordant forces while neither has means or motive meshing. I envy the sky and the winds, the birds and the rain, they get to be free and fly and soar without weight or imagery imagined but untamed. gravity, amongst other such propensities, is an archnemeses waiting for Atlas or some such mythic figure to swoop down and carry meniality away from my dreams. laugh I must as life breaks each and every such candle I put to flame, that I mould but one more to breathe away its final wisps and resume this ever-tiresome refrain. onwards this pattern goes, in but infinite shades and hues, until my bill is paid and my soul finds what it has all along felt due.