5.01.2019

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

from few days back

ain't got no complaints, life goes on as it always has, me still chasing shadows of ideal complexion, just beyond the reach, of my outstretched hand, suppose every nomad needs that crowning jewel, so his meager effort, might find from Him, something worthy at its end. they tell me not to place expectations, not in people, not in those who might topple simple hopes, with mere breaths of fateful decision, but something they don't know: no mortal chest, not even mine that He fashioned with all its wishes and aims, can hold the Pinnacle of my dream, a place far too high, for any slave to claim. 

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in reply to 7/5/18

to glimpse back in time, a Moon with her reflection, captivated gaze, struck by its mirror speechless, such the little things, life carves from what we're born to chase.  these the reminders, the resonance, echoes from the depths, what we're forever made from. even as i empty into life, all of what must be given, still my Sky pulls towards its own direction, with close by a lunar orbit, soon to find as well its completion. 

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