In the light of humility
the desert becomes ablaze
dream rhymes call in the dream
are lost in the dark

your love of heaven
comes back to abstract

Sometimes the way I look back
underneath the shadows of new road
that mingles with the smell of wild soil
constantly go forward to the race of love and death

Throughout the ages,
wandering within thousand monsoon
Or in the autumn,
where illusions of the sudden mist
moves him to millions of light years away
who will turn him from the glamour of dreams

In the dark night he who will discover that
at other times, he will meet with a magical moonlit
how come he will come back
certainly or uncertainty In the dark
Or on the tomb of an eternal love
.
@Musfiq us shaleheen

dark as the night
beautiful as a storm
your love,
a rose sweeter than
the sky
my everything
and nothing,
my live wire,
my shooting star.
touch me so i feel
alive, unwrap me
tender and warm
bewitch me with
your kiss until i
melt into the air
in the metals of a
sleeping world
gather me like
a flower, fly to
me like a bird.

.
on a floating boat
where a river could be followed
a maximum life may bond
forever and beyond

you can take a long breath
when a river flows towards beyond the death
there a beauty ever warming
even forever a carolleth overwhelming
where the wonder wind always wandering
with the truth

that everyone feels sometimes
but someone feels many times

could be an inherent exhaust romantic
where someone finds always some critic
As if a lovely sounds of the stream
maybe a true metaphor of poetry
always makes beautiful waves of symmetry

that everyone feels sometimes
but someone feels many times
.
@Musfiq us shaleheen

Infinite moments up until now,
Infinite moments ahead,
But right now in this moment, time is frozen.
Your kisses make me dizzy in the head.

I don’t know what I did to deserve you,
Or what you’ve done to deserve me,
But together we are two parts that make up a whole,
Together we are free.

The universe connects us to each person in each moment,
For reasons we will never understand.
So on the night of June 7th, when I connected with you,
It was not something for which I had planned.

You’ve turned my entire world upside down,
Your words spin me round.
Your love takes me places so high,
I am afraid my feet will never touch the ground.

Once in a lifetime you find your person,
So when you do hold on so tight.
It’s like no matter what you do or where you go,
Every moment feels so right.

For there are infinite moments up until now,
And infinite moments ahead,
Each infinite moment I promise to love you,
Each moment until I am dead.

.
Behind the depression of discarded Love,
The land that was once again called rain,
When the ethereal whispered
The day turned again,
Thousands of purple flowers play on that land
With all-colours of butterflies,
Insight eyes grow,
The eyes stop
Dreams run parallel to the path,
A spring of strangely unexplored wind in the afternoon
Seeing the strange behaviour of Fong
Somehow alone you walk through the lane on the shore of the river

Certainly, the melody comes out,
Cradling with the known and the unknown
Want to get back to one turn,
Light and shadow in the game,
The pages are painted in colour,
Again, in the midst of different forms,
In search of her shape,
Towards the illusions of the dream,
In the songs of flowers and leaves,
In one of the magical forms of poem

Where to get lost, no one can stop the dam,
If lost, all is returned,
Then if anyone in the dream calls
And if you wake up
In the dark of the darkness, it is easy to forget yourself
Feeling faded to swell,
Comes out of the poem of great form,
Where the beauty of love is inaccessible
And poetry covers the wide-ranging sky,
An endless loving-laden night,
Whose unimaginable unknowingly unmarked path
.
@Musfiq us shaleheen
5th April,2018

in just one instant everyone separates
                    from the images we loved the most,
and dear friend
you will lay
               fragile and
                in pain beside the frames.

I left you thinking about many things
and hopefully you will think a bit of me along the way.

You know,
dear friend,
in this path towards death
              called life,
I feel well accompanied
I feel almost satisfied
when I picture that far away,
                                              wherever you are,
maybe you believe my words before going to bed
or come across me in the streets of your dreams.

Writing down the truth
Cold liquid floods my body
Deserved guilt and shame flows in my blood
Diluting my good
Fighting red pained tears of weakness
My left eye weeps
A pathetic, pitiful drop that returns upon each wipe
I can’t allow it to flow
But I deserve to cry
I’m frightened
Frightened it will open something that I can’t contain
I’ll wait till I’m home, alone
Where I can reflect on my selfish desires
My mindless ignorance and lustful greed
Innocence? Probably not
I write as he breathes heavy next to me, carefree
My stomach drops
There was no satisfaction found
Fleeting,
Careless,
Carelessly giving away a part of me
That should remain unfamiliar
This isn’t poetry
There’s nothing poetic about
Deceiving love

What was Kafka thinking? Felice Bauer-
blonde, in a homely sort of way- couldn't
think of him the same way after. He'd asked
her that question (hidden behind his obsession
with his own self-hatred, his surety that she hated him too).
Could you- might you- do you think you'd be able to bear it-
M a r r y i n g  m e?
History tells us they didn't tie the knot.
Kafka, probably, didn't mind a lot.
Franz Kafka: that hopeless man,
couldn't look in the mirror without shying from his own reflection.
Kafka, who'd balk at the slightest hint of romantic attention.
More story than man, really. Had more eloquence in his
smallest finger than ever came out of his mouth.

No wonder Felice had her doubts.

We're standing in the middle of the forest
and there's no one around.
Your hand is in mine but your

skin is as cold as your eyes.
A bird flies aimless above us-
who is more trapped? you ask.

I don't reply, but my heart shakes.
I feel dead as the snow, curling down
like kinks in an old man's hair.

Everything is white, as though God
took his paintbrush and white-washed
all the emotion away.

I'm scared, though I don't show it.
I stumble. We move through it.
Your hand is in mine.

As he gazed on my face
I saw waves of emotion
rise and crash
in his deep almond eyes
and I became a river
hurtling down to join
the mighty current

When he whispered to me
honeyed words of passion
in the enormity of silence
I blossomed
into
a red tulip of love

As he played on the strings
of my heart’s violin
I got tuned
into an alluring symphony

When he held my palms
I evolved into
a beautiful painting
on a blank canvas

When he cupped my face
to stamp on my lips
the seal of love
I became
a flitting butterfly

When he lifted me up
in his arms
all the stars came down
to see the spark in my eyes
wondering if it outdid
their combined lustre

..
in the night to day
love love love-
that may you have gotten
that's why the poetry
yet makes a symmetry
between the life in the lost
in the desert or in the frost
you have never forgotten
the metaphoric cohesions
in the tunes of the flute
or in the dreams of mute
yes life processed some illusions
which may make any creation
love love love-
there is, of course, an inspiration
yet the lonely dream possessions
in the treasures
or in the desert
the mystic mirage why?
otherwise, the dreams to die
in the night to day
from one May to another May
a day remains a day
on another unique day
yet the elusive rose
never grew gray
love love love-
that once you have gotten
you have never forgotten
...
@Musfiq us shaleheen