Beauty can be sad or happy or sometimes neutralize. Night has its own beauties that scribed with the griefs of pleasure at dark. Darkness towards insanity, insanity towards sense, sense towards soul sighting to be written in poetry. That is how perceptual imagination should be inflicted thoughts that blackout sanity while waiting to hallucinate.

The beauty in your eyes, is me
The holiness inside your soul, is me
The hope in your mind, is me
The words of your mouth, is me
The mitochondria found in your cells, is me

Everything is me, you are the host
Living through prayer to life
and
spread sense of essence,
In pursuit of crumbling love.

When sadness becomes beautiful
Know, I'll be your lover boy
Everything at once, will be yours forever

Strange days for a lonely mind
Will buy you a secret, a secret of grief
That will never been flourished, untill you say-
"When sadeness becomes beautiful
Know, I'll be your love forever"

Your home is still here, inviolate and certain.
Thank you, oh Lord, for the white blind light.

Jumped, ******, born to suffer.
Made to undress, in the wilderness.
Our love so found a safe niche
Where we can store up riches and talk to our fellows,
In the same premise of disaster.

Thank you, oh Lord, for the white blind light.

Let me tell you about heartache and the loss of God,
wandering, wandering a hopeless night.
Moonshine night, mountain village insane in the woods,
in the deep trees, in the deep trees, in the deep trees.

Your home is still here, inviolate and certain.
Oh, I want to be there, I want us to be there,
oh I want to be there, beside the lake, beneath the moon,
Cool and swollen, dripping its hot liquor.
I want to be there.

Thank you, Lord, for the white blind light.

A city rises from the sea.

Let me tell you about heartache and the loss of God,
Wandering, wandering a hopeless night.
Let me show you the maiden with wrought iron soul.
Out here in the perimeter, there are no stars.
Out here we're ******.
Immaculate.

"Build forts in each homestead
You must resist the Pakistani enemy
with whatever you have in hand
Remember, we have given a lot of blood,
a lot more blood we shall give if need be,
but we shall liberate the people of this country,
(if God blessed)

The struggle this time
is the struggle for our emancipation;
The struggle this time
is the struggle for independence"

Sheikh Mujib
7 March, 1971

I saw the world, it was beautiful
But the rain got in and ruined it all
Then I tried to be invisible
It was impossible
Even for me
I laughed at love
It was a big mistake
In the absence of
I filled it with hate

Cause there's no such thing as nothing
Yeah there's no such thing as nothing at all

I had the brains not to think at all
But the rain got in
And I thought too hard
On the world, and as usual
I slumped too far into the void
I tried to make everything meaningless
But the rain got in and made it a mess

Cause there's no such thing as nothing
Yeah there's no such thing as nothing at all
Yeah there's no such thing as nothing
But my finger's on the trigger
And I'll turn off the world

So what gives me the right
To think that I could throw away a life?
Even mine
And what makes you believe
That you could get away with getting old?
Overlapping me
Maybe to lose or to save your soul
Is a choice of how you fill the hole

And the rain got in

Cause there's no such thing as nothing
Yeah there's no such thing as nothing at all
There's no such thing as nothing
But my finger's on the trigger
And I'll turn off the world

Eid Mubarak to all of my Poet friends. I love you more than my verses. May you live long with living peace.

Godspeed.

He smokes to live
for dying soon
But he never was drawn
the creed on death

How life becomes dark essence
staring at the moonlit night
watching from over the sunshine

He thinks in distortion
walks on delusion
sleeps with the obsession
He lives in anarchy hallucination

He sings for true love
but love could never hold him last
He fights for living peace
but peace never be upon on him

Life becomes enamored death
scribed on nature
versified within soul light
But he never was seen
the death in his dark soul

He thinks in distortion
walks on delusion
He sleeps with the obsession

Doesn't he live in anarchy hallucination?