- in the name of Allah -
underneath the moon
just as passing shadows on a midnight summer's eve, cast forth by clouds finding still their road by heaven's leash, my breath calms to winter's tune, now at last opaque with respite given form both false and true. as prior puzzles procure their pause, sight is bronzed in darkness, with eye each eye obscured by willing gauze. crooks and cheats have such simple paths to follow, either evasion of authority or greed of riches ringing hollow. but those who care not for the means of such labels, nor the sordid deeds of their requisite, find in questioning their staple, an endless search for the unenviable perfectionist. ideals, those grandiose things of fancy, pursued by both kings and paupers, but damned to hell by human fallibility, mistaking for gold mere shiny coppers. how often must cry the sun, to see such potential wasted, as each morning rises, but yet people with its light, move still in patterns aimless. accrue all the coffers and counts, levy the ledgers and lists, but be ever certain to revoke the rights and make rife the rifts. ironic indeed, one that might envy the shadow, might envy the ghost, whose legend is safe in books and histories foretold the most. so much hope, wrapped up in burdens, prayed not to sink its sailor's ship, alas for wisdom lost or never had, that smarter moves were not made than this. not all shores remain as bright as mother's lands, some siren songs turn out too strong, unwrapping from serenity's gift the final strands, as with pandora, hope is all it ever was, or ever had.