- in the name of Allah -
in between the lines, right below the surface, oscillate those echoes, their absence where the hurt is. Need - a wound long healed yet bleeding regardless, let's skip past surgery, would settle for a bandage, staunch the rivulets of Red, might be better if I found a tourniquet, maybe lose a limb, but kept as whole whatever's left: doesn't seem like much, as the heart's abated, no calling from within, just vast gaping seams of nothingness.
in these moments, my being evaporates to mist, while I search for rain, to quell a void I'd rather keep than give. here's to a spring that never ends, except for when autumn comes around the bend, here's to thunderclouds and downpours, that turn their distant rumbles into roars...a day will come to pass, where the winds blow just right across my face, so my soul can cherish at last its moment, and into that wind escapes.