A negligible volume and infinite energy
A limitless interval of knowledge and intimacy

Wisdom surpassing reason binding the creation
Imprinted information in our core's explanation

I am eternal, i will never die
Death is conquered, though you will putrefy
Because
You knew too much, still you chose crime
But
I come from the outter margin, beyond space and time


Words Of Harfouchism

In the inner margin of time and space
I conquered the spiritual illusion of Gods and race

My tears spoke of a blind purpose
Of a false wisdom and corrupted conscious

I rebeled agaisnt my prophet and prophetess
For we are nothing but nature's sons and daughters

I love this place across the water, the mysticated river
The place beyond existence, the place of shivers

In the outter margin i shall forever fall
Life is a mystery, and mystery is a waterfall


Words Of Harfouchism

Let me see beyond your beautiful,
Let my fingers trace your scars,
Not to haunt you, or taunt you,
But to remind you of all your battles, that you have made it this far.


While everyone else gets to hear you laugh,
I want to be there whether you quietly sob, or when you scream your lungs out.
I wouldn't want to miss any uphill battles, Or any moments headed south.


While the world patiently waits to witness what you make,
I want to be a witness to whatever it is that makes you.


I will walk with you, bare-foot, slippers, sneakers or boots.
The world gets to adore the beauty of the rose,
While I find myself falling in love with the roots.

Falling for someone you don't entirely know,
You are tirelessly entering an endeavor you are to lose,
You give your entire being to an entirely different entity,
Who entices you with flashes of brilliance and mistery.
You effortlessly exert effort for a hopeless cause.
You are endlessly waiting for an eternity that will not come,
You picked a battle you have lost long before you could have won.
To fall in love with someone you barely know, don't do it, just please, don't.

"I'm obsessed with the idea of waking up in your arms;

What assurance,
Do we have,
That each time we fall asleep,
We'd still wake up?
Every night could be our last,
And when I wake up,
With the warmth of your breath,
Gently brushing my neck,
What a feeling it would be knowing,
That the night before could have been our last,
Yet we chose to spend it,
Wrapped up in each other's arms."

How beautiful,
Yet how tragic,
The sight of a burning bridge,
Ignited by an unrequited lover's fire,
Not out of hate,
Not out of anger,
But to make sure,
That to the very person he or she longs for,
They are no longer a burden,
They are no longer a bother.