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Persephone Dec 2021
Someday I will bring this world to its knees for everything that it has done to me.
And while it begs for my forgiveness, I will simply watch as it trembles at the echos of my laugh
Badshah Khan Feb 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 39

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

The faqeer (Holy Wanderer) won’t search for any eternal love.

The eternal love itself eagerly begs for him,

To be uniquely his loved once.

He naturally becomes a Faqeer (Holy wanderer) means;

He scatters himself as a void vessel,

To be naturally filled with divine wisdom and love!

Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
L Oct 2018
I want to explore you

(Is this what this is?)



I want to hold every inch. I want to graze. My eyes they hunger. My mind tries to satiate my hunger but alas. Nothing imagined can compare. It is only fact. The only fact i know for a certainty.

(Okay, maybe thats a bit of an overexaggeration. But.


Shut up.)

I always end up giving up. Wind up throwing in the towel. Too wound up. Dissatisfaction.

(I almost said insatisfaction. But that would have been incorrect. No no. I am correct. Always. I am me. Me is right. Ha.)

I need to be pleased. Please, please me. Dear god what is going on. Inexplicable feels in places unpredictable. In ordinary actions turned utterly and splendidly extraordinary.

(How cliché.)

Sweet toxicity. Unexpectable, unsuspecting poison in every glance, every look. It holds me firmly with an unrelenting grip that says "there is no such escape from this destiny." And the words are such a pleasure to hear. And i want to hear them over. And over. And over again. And i want it deep and commanding. I want definity in the way that it already is. Who could ask to escape from something such as this. What poor blind fool would willingly give this up. This infinity. This immensity.

No. Not i. Never. I could never deny this. Not now or ever.

I am a happy captive of this place
in life
in which i am present in
at the moment.
Oh well. Here it is. Lost treasure.
Erik Johnson Mar 2015
Everything that she wants, she gets
Everything that she begs, she receives
Everything that she sees, she hears

This is what her gears are moving towards

Time of presence is relevant
Time is of the essence
Will you give her what she asks for?
Or will she find another love
This non-rhyming poem can be interred in any way it is short, subtle and quite Beautiful

— The End —