Is the dream finally broken?
Can not be deciphered, the writing of destiny!
Then, wandering towards the stark reality.

In purity of soul, remembering Him,
Determined determination.

In receiving the order,
No more pointless crossings.

What a lust called!
All are illusory, all are mortal,
When the day terminates, all will be covered in deep darkness.

No more the temptation of hypocrisy,
No more, inevitable bleeding of the heart,
O Indestructible!
Permeate my heart,
Unconditional return to You.

Innocent super monstrous empty smile,
That smile is so insidious-
The meaning of which I couldn't find till today,
And it's alike, when did it become stale?

Earthly or death,
Never had time to think about it-
On the perimeter of the dry oasis,
Aimless movement still.

In dark-encrusted salt water, non-invasive transmission
It is as if in a lifeless body, the origin of the heart.

What is memory loss?
I see the crowd of queues,
Or family of migratory birds
Find their nest in the twilight.

Looking at the full moon, kerosene flame says,
On my forehead, draw a mark of royalty.

When you are covered, in the new moon
Yet I, with the light, go on lighting.

Hearing this the earthen lamp, guffawed
People loves more, in worship-prayer.

Moon smiled and said, "Listen, both of you."
You both are equally meritorious, there is no shame.

The deep forest calls out,
In the tenderness of the leaves
What an illusion is involved.

The murmur of dried leaves
Blow in which tune,
Hijal, tamal, in the shade of shawl
Called away in a remote place.

Curved narrow paths
Merged into an unknown border,
Green forest surrounded by shade
Prate by prying.

The dew of the grass wraps around the feet
Still walking randomly,
The rainbow came and filled my heart
I want to return to her embrace.

I’m buried in a cocoon of stories
From poetry,
To biographies,
To dystopia,
And romance
So many stories
Of so many people
Real,
Or just figments of the author’s
Imagination
Sitting atop wooden bookshelves
Waiting for the right person,
To pick them up
And get lost in their story
For everyone has a story to tell,
Some are overly exaggerated,
And other’s are rarely heard
The important thing is
That we share our stories
Through word of mouth,
The internet,
Or in a notebook
To be found by future historians
Tell your story
Believe me, you won’t regret it

Tea stained blotches
Slowly spread across
thick green leaves
as July is pulled into
August. Fat blackberries
Are scattered into hedgerows of
Cow parsley.
Brambles reach out their forked
Fingers and nettles swallow the pathways.
I am looking forward to autumn
When I am no longer in a busy emerald city
But instead in cool quiet
Trudging through golden bracken.