A constant battle rages.
Hot and cold circle each other in an elegant dance.
Decay feeds the blooming field above.
The sun and moon compete for our attention.

Inside, a wrathful hurricane thrashes against my skull.
Inside, the elements clash against my ribs.
Inside, the gravity of death and the lift of life rip my heart in half.
Inside, I don't know what to choose.

Heaven and Hell continue their war inside of me
     and all around me.
They whisper to me the wrongs and rights of the world
     but they tell me lies.
I close my eyes tight and clamp my hands over my ears
     but they still find me.

I do not feel serenity in the natural balance of life.

I feel confused
          I feel blurred
                    I feel chaotic

With the pressure to choose.

                                           I cannot choose.
                                   What if I choose wrong?
               How do I choose who gets to hurt
                                                            and who gets joy?
But I do it all the time.

I choose to hurt.
So they can feel joy.
But I don't want it anymore.
What will happen to the scale if I decide to jump

     into the river
          so far below,
     into the clouds
          so welcoming,
     into the fire
          so destructive
     into the ground
          so cold underneath.

How will I find balance within me
     if I cannot find peace in the balance around me?

he loves me
comes fro dark day
when people worshape stunts
they worshape thier kings

and the global is dark
the waves asks God
to ovecome that blank
he came with every good

if you have justice
read his history
with just with balance
of mind and heart

you will say one word
that is the man for evey time
that comes to get rid every hurt
your heart will pump

that is the kindest
mohamad
is the prophet

A have a guardian angel of woe
Watching over me
He collects my due of sorrow
Pocketing it in black memory
Only when I have been too happy
Will then he a little share
Out of his enormous collection
A carefully measured handful spare
So I am never lost to sadness
Nor ever in happiness corrupt
Living a life in measured scales
Between the two, in his trust
Devoid of bliss, far from infinite joy
Safe from maddening grief and

indistinctively I took a hasty step
the ground below my feet rumbled
balancing my way on a thread like lawn
comprehending how it's like to be free

thoughts corrupting my mind
compulsive actions I do like mime
I ask myself countless of times
is there an end to this
once upon a time?

Relax, gratefully,

and take care of your body –


your temple of life.

The goshawk protects

the pagoda's fine frescoes –


from pigeon droppings.