you often do not know, that people fall in love in many ways. Whether it's just the cusp of destiny or the fate of a lifetime. In between cities, villages, neighborhoods and people. As one knows another, the connection effing humans runs deep, lining  pale sunsets along the way. People feel for each other because they understand each other need's and wants. And once they do, love makes way, into the summer solstice. Hope and ardour mix in the same drink to go on and feel loved slurring away mishaps and beholding a doctor future; the one braided with hope and ecstasy as one and one become two, together.

The sky twirling at bay,
Melodies of summer in May,
Heat stroking farther, forever
In this oblivious weather,
The wind flies high,
Darkness regretted, Light calls,
To enervate the recreated world,
The maze of life,
Is regrettable,
Unforgettable.
But as summer calls,
So do the loving and dead,
And, thus,
The unforgettable becomes forgettable.

The taste of true wine,
isn't the one that makes you,
paint crimson skies in your life,
when clouds of benevolence and doom,
control the cup of life.

The true taste of wine,
Is naive and benign.
It undresses your soul,
and tangles with your language.
until you find the truths,
you never had the courage to stumble on.
The true taste of wine,
often makes you the magician,
by living your life with you,
But making your realise there's always more.
To be done, felt and lived.
There is always more to melancholy,
as there is, to the language of the lips.

There is in it all,
a reason.
For you to lose, to gain, to fall,
to rise; to prosper in all.
It is what makes a human vibrate,
his originality rather than his deceit.
The world spins around, and waits for none.
And, so shouldn't you too.
Give what you can take, and take what you get.
People out there do not have enough,
and when we really help them,
a piece of us becomes whole each time,
piece of us, that heals, in the process.
And, it is for a reason; a greater good.
To heal, we have to give more and take less.
And the reason for it all,
will shine bright in your face,
even in the midst of gloom, for a diamond,
outlives pitch black gorged darkness, even in centurions.
as light prevails in the scrimmages of reason.

You don't have to be alone, to feel empty,
It is a feeling that feeds on you, ebbs your strength,
makes you vulnerable to faith.
You can be in a room full, of happy souls,
and still, the cusp of emptiness might sneak through the door,
and give you a nudge in the direction loneliness.
It is about that strange feeling, that seeks in, like mildew, or vaseline
after a wound, scratching the surface,
barely making contact with the inner skin,
and yet gripping you with pain,  and bleeds of trauma.

When you will look around, you'll see, so many people,
with bright smile on their faces, alluring eyes, the ones,
who look like fountains, beautiful ones with pure purpose.
But, the truth is many among them, are still not what you see.
The crust, the cover of souls are very happy, and yet, there are things missing inside of them.
Somebody who might wish for a kid, somebody who has jiust lost his sister, somebody who has a disease, eating on him,
snatching away his life, meant to be surged atop exuberant mountains.
People hide it so well, you wouldn't notice if you don't look closely.

The pain lives in each of them, feeding, breaking, disintegrating them.
The more they ignore it, the more it hurts.
The fact is accepting, it's a part of you, of who you are,
a fragment of your identity.
Because accepting it, makes you versatile, it makes you understandable.
And once, you are understandable, to people,
You become complete, within yourself, and you don't just barely scratch the surface now,
You go deep into understanding who you really are, and that makes you strong.
Because when that loneliness heals, it is one zeus of a feeling.

The cool night air, raids my skin,
embraces my breath, and holds on to me,
tighter.
As if whispering in my ear, "I love you."
on midnight over the dark horizon.
I sink the feeling of mud on my feet,
my whiskery feet, ebbed with soil.

I feel naked, not in the sense, I'm bare and without apparel,
but of the feeling,
That this is my true self.
Where my wild fantasies can dance,
to every notion and every chord,
of midnight's music, on fret boards, pumping life.
The fact that I am who I am cusps me harder,
and my fantasies, pull me up,
into the musical, whimsical Arabic night.

I rediscover myself, in shattered trees,
left by the wind,
lightning crackles, dancing with joy, as I dance too.
A dance with the devil, the wind spiraling around me,
My thoughts throttled, pushing boundaries.
And my fantasies, becoming my ecstasies,
as the wind slows down, leaving me in relaxation,
like after a man's ******.

how would you feel,
if your soul is blown away,
by the night air, the breeze,
into unknown places,
among unknown people.
while you'd be hoping for it to return,
feeling empty, the void in you so deep
and threatening.
that it penetrates your feelings,
that hand dry with the clothes now.

and you would wait for it come back,
to fly back to you, and make you feel,
yourself again.
but you know that it won't,
because you kept it caged for so long,
in the boundaries of guilt,
that it wants freedom now,
more than ever.
a life for itself,
out of your body, that kept it,
shimmering it's glow, diminishing it's existence,
for so long, it often forgot, it's light had existed.