I see you pluck heedless flowers
from the ground where they grow
dressing your narcissism as love.
And you put it in a vase, to sooth
the gnawing fact that it is nothing
more than a casket. She waits do die.
You think her beautiful, so convinced
only you deserve to handle her charms,
yet in your watch she slowly withers.
Love, you can keep picking flowers
but none of them will stay
until you realize it doesn’t need you.
she thrives in the wild by her roots,
by the ground where she stands.
you can watch her bloom without tearing her apart.
that is how you must love.
when we met,
you planted seeds into the garden that was my heart. with every kiss, every touch, every "i love you", the seeds blossomed into beautiful flowers. then the taste of your lips turned bittersweet, but it always left me wanting more. your touch was like poison. seeping through my skin and corrupting everything that was pure and innocent. the flowers in our garden began to wilt. and all that was left was the bitter taste in my mouth, and the poison coursing through my veins. how naive of me, to let myself become addicted to the drug that was you.
.. .. ..
Bloom! Bloom! Look at the flower fields! Go, pick yourself a rose Might as well pick your nose .. .. ..
She had returned from her journey,
radiating bright, vivid light. Feeling better than ever. Blooming. Small minds couldn’t handle her flowers.
but the sun garden was hers to handle anyways .
don’t know when my petals died, but I do know that I survived
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 16
BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem Let me bloom, for you my eternal love. Hence, you can gently kiss me unconditionally. Rarely I bloom, so don’t miss the precise date. As I am precisely a rare flower, and you are heartily my Beloved. No matter, wherever you wander hopelessly. For your own existence, as I gently hold the Key, Of your noble heart, As my Beloved’ Forever! Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan ©UT-BK 2018
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
ivory skin, as this paper
ebony hair, as this ink shining, imbued with moonlight glistening, dipped in the morn's dew he is my friend, with lips of roses a nose, a thorn and flowers, rathe in winter she is your lover with fangs of eggshells eyes of marbles blood of honey and flesh of black lace one mark, a fall, a wellspring in the night we sing the evensong then where do we go?
I don't know what I'm feeling. This feels totally right, yet totally wrong
My sweetheart was like a flower that after winter snow would bloom again In spring having laid below the frozen ground
of winter but come to the thaw she starts to bloom again her pale skin changing, colour coming back to her body my darling loved the sun It was with the warmth of the sunshe really came to life but sadly she died In winter never made the following summer probably the best one we had for years poor girl she deserved to see that summer but life can be cruel and very unforgiving
My sweetheart was like a flower that blooms In
spring after the winter snow had gone
The ocean moves
stirring the water. But none see the sunshine behind the full moon in bloom that steals the starry night.
Wine and Saffron petals.
Dripping with dew. My leaves unfold. No root is askew. Here I am waiting. You’re finally in view. I’m now in full bloom. If only you knew. -elb