Morpheus has never been kind to me
His somniferous ways leave me wanting
Grasping at the cusp of a reality
As evanescent as the morning mist
That greets this reluctant gaze.

He exists to these sheathed
Bourbon eyes
Within the veiled carapace
Of the only form I've ever wanted more
Than necessity and air.
His torment lies
In false reunions, in joining and parting lips
In forest eyes that linger behind in my thoughts
Like the echo of a cannon
Long after it's wrought its own havoc.

Yes, that twisted Lothario
That Grecian sandman
Exists to overcharge the soul with
Hope so poisonous
Bodies and minds are wracked with it
Inspired by it
Haunted on into the waking world
Where he waits on the periphery
Eyes narrowed in the light
Of the waking world that renders him useless.

Why do men turn babye?
And babye turn boyes?
It better for a women
To use toyes.

~
The death of that innocent child
Changes the map of consciences, not of the world
Again proved that our education is wrong
The religion of the people turns to transgressions

When blood stained in the sky
Our love has become non-existence
Teaches me to think of another new war!
For the New Earth a habitable
~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen