بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

so many echoes, without their location, just a mammal in the ocean, momentarily drifting towards oblivion. soon to be glacier, float on the surface, frozen in earnest, until let go of the pressure, trying to make masjids from churches. perhaps every thread that I read, in between the lines wasn't at all the truth, just agonies composed by the mind, where only I see how I do. insanity, my shadow that taunts and creeps, but can never be reached, like a ghost the road behind me it haunts, waiting for chances and sieves, to slit sanity's throat, a villain without form but malice it breathes. forward I'm pushed, pulled, propelled, like a dam being built, keeping more of the flow behind itself, regardless the cost of laying mortar or bricks, so much weight without mass, carried on shoulders that He won't let give. in some breaths I found life, while in others death, the yin of my yang breaks over and over, on the wheel of time where its fate is kept. here's to living without feeling, for so little long as it lasts, a tempest stilled in the mercy of an organ kept beating.