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~~
She rolls down the western edge
The bucolic Spiral path
Coincides with the horizon
Gray foot print
Slowly mingles with dark
As the Bats of evening find back to home

Gentle Breeze to dangle
Purple haze of Four O'clock
The Crossroads, Wait behind
Where to start, or what end is!
Poetry continuing as the falls of pain

Afternoon's Lyrics said good bye
Today's bright Star does not rise
What they chase during the run out!
Why come back again
Along with the known way!

Moonlit falls on the ways of Standing hill
Beyond the horizon
Dark fading, while
Lost love fusions with her colors
Across the Monsoon, Autumn, Winter
Finally the Spring is on the way
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
...
~~
This is where the earth
There were piles of refuse time
Over millions of years
Wants to stand up

Walk the walk where the stand
Hundreds of thousands of
Light-years away
My friend, the North Star
Of his many friends
Lost in the pit of time

Mother's hair grew gray
All sides of the wall
Of the house has broken
Rust is over the grills of window
Said goodbye to dreams

White childhood,
Blue adolescence,
The red color of youth,
Instead of
Bruises under the eyes
Sending love to the jail
My friend is now hanging
within four frames of the wall

This is where the earth
Everything turns to be
A graveyard
Gray ash color valley
On that
History's foot print
will be exist

Nobody did not come back
The sun may never
rise again
Love is beneath
the silent dark of trash
All the truths will be turned
into devour
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
....
 Jan 2016 Maha Salman
Liam
creation rests within intricacies
  rainbows occupy little space
imagination is pervasive
  hope encompasses galaxies

sentiment imploring reason
  heart negotiating the mind
sentient reconciling reality
  dreams awaiting reincarnation

faith in earnest development
  amidst premature existential loss
artistically loving expression
  crafting interstitial intimacy
Wake, eat, sleep.
wake, eat sleep.
A documentation of my current existence.
Emotion has become a foreign word to me,
Replaced with simply nothingness.

No longer is the red which would burn my body,
when I saw him with her, smiling smiles of honey.
Gone is the blue, drowning me in her sadness
when I thought of all the people who have turned their backs on me
decided they were finished with me
those who were supposed to love me unconditionally.

"Goodbye" said I to yellow who would drizzle me in her warmth
when I veiwed the light shining though the trees
as birds sang , voices ringing with her colour.

For now I fly through life on auto-pilot,
never stopping to feel the sun kissing my cheeks so sweetly,
never stopping to feel the wind nipping my nose so harshly,
never stopping to feel.
 Jan 2016 Maha Salman
Liam
outlined in shades of reality
replete with eclipsed potential
the morning moon in revelation
unaware of her ageless touch

the language of time is floral
the color of anachronism is sage
so asymmetric in its beauty
so linear in its dictates

but her silhouette defies projection
refracting moments into mosaics
collaging aspirations into awareness
as dreams clarify into appreciation
 Jan 2016 Maha Salman
Liam
persistent as a ubiquitous urchin
charmingly offering promises
disguised as roses in her tiny hand

depriving as inanimate loveliness
pinned for posterity under glass
posing as a butterfly's fragile elegance

precious as tears welling involuntarily
in a singular moment of transient truth
when a beauty is fully comprehended

…such is the desperation of time
 Jan 2016 Maha Salman
Liam
reverberating down endless fjords
  louder than an aching heartbeat
an alluring cardio-tinnitus
  ringing at the wavelength of life

clouds appear oblivious to such calls
  forever bordering sea and sky
albeit restlessly on the move
  concealing their turbulence within

myself bound to superficial drifting
  keel scraping along jagged depths
aimlessly navigating the narrows
  deaf to the serenade of reason
 Jan 2016 Maha Salman
Liam
happiness arrives in a moment
and departs without a whisper
fleeting is constantly cyclic

blue sky hovers over teal sea
gold moonlight bathes pebbled shore
tide silently ebbs away froth

still i look to find a reason
for the disintegration of persistence
and the integral content of content
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