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A mindless wanderer amidst a universe of stars he cannot see
A stride as faint as a silent cry

Humanity falls through its destiny
Through the eye of an arbitrary blade of grass
Wavering inside the space between atoms

Never to see, what really is
Without a chance to pierce the veils that matter
Hopelessly loss within its simple borders
What about duality, when infinity is all around us

All we have is life.
Yanamari Sep 15
My Past and I
Walk hand in hand
Every day
That I come to stand,
Grip adjusting
From a gentle caress
To a tugging demand.

And in
Laying in molten tar
And stroking frozen walls
I forget that hand; to mar
My skin invisibly to the core.

I am yet to understand
The warmth of that hand
How to hold it and
Be gentle without reprimand-
For the crumbling
It causes and the
Constant fluctuating
Pushes and pulls
A lull-
Laying me down to sleep.
Omar Kawash Sep 6
I’ve been trying for several months
to write you a letter

Not for lack of dialogue;
I lacked the letters to simply compose.

A letter of love.

A letter of respite.

& yet, here, I write:

a letter of extrinsic motivations
a letter of intrinsic fulfillment
Miesha Aug 17
Her duality should be appreciated

Not tolerated

Even the sun is hugged by everlasting darkness

Within its galaxy.
Yanamari Aug 5
And there's a
A smile
After you
Always evaporating, cheeks


A yell,

No turn
Words churned
In the instability
I am floating in
Unable to earn
The desires that I
Locked in my frozen

Floating in
Uncontrollable colour changing tar
The one thing I expected
To remain constant
Was the lack of equilibrium
And I .... Why is it you're looking...
Looking at me?
Pers Ref: WA 2Aug (Butter). Is it really the beginning of equilibration?
3 Aug 2
write an anthology for which
broken part of me?
       the one that weeps for
        innocuous souls too early departed,
                or the one that split
                their necks open, looking
                for gold?

i’ll tell you, there’s
no treasure in the eyes
of the hated, and no
hope in the minds of
those who burn cities
to the ground just to
smell charred dreams --

staying alive
is a risk that permeates
the groundwater everyone
in my life drinks from. i could
be angelic or heretic,
new found or lost
to the ideas of men i once
was, before led astray,
before the radio chirped,

& my intruder’s openness
closed the hearts of souls
the same tired metaphor again
Sun carved silhouettes,
Darkness from light.
Things that grow,
In the shadow.
Crawl out in the night.
Tip of a root,
Surrounded by dirt.
Unaware of the tree,
Above the earth,
Connected to other roots,
Belonging to the tree.

The leaves,
At the top of the tree,
Gain a better view,
With movements seperate.
Without the wind,
There would be no duality.

All of these are aspects of me.
A man born of nothing
Likewise from everything.
Came from no where
Yet somewhere.
A man who clutches freewill
But has no voice.
He is of every hue
And whom his coitus is specific
And undefined.

He walked the earth by choice.
Conversed with whom he wished.
And lived how he saw fit.

However a calling came for some heroes of his clique.
And he was drawn or he volunteered.

Rough this path was to be
And rough it turned out.

As the path grew darker
The man grew darker.
He partook, inflicted, and observed such unimaginable cruelty. It could only be imagined.

The cruelty was real.
It made him feel so real.
So connected.
Primitive and so developed.

Until he found his breaking point.
Seeing something so terrible it was definitely real.
His eyes wore scars that only faded in the later years of his life.
But he would remember the scene to the exact detail forever.

The path got brighter. So did the man.
But the man was always not as gleeful as his surroundings.
He like so many of his fellow hero’s got stuck in the past sometimes.
Going back to when the path wasn’t so bright.

He lived the rest of his life in peace. Had a family. Fought for the right things with what voice he had.

One day he returned to the most horrific battlefield he once stood on as a soldier.
A man his age, but of the enemy’s looks gazed at him.

An unspoken barrier would always separate them.
But these two were as close and as far as brothers.

They shared a glance so deep only warriors could read it. Roughly translated it said, “All of that is done and gone with. I’ll love you for sharing my memories. I’ll hate your for the bad ones.” Then they went their ways and lived out their days in harmony with hatred and sadness.

Only men like them will ever really be truly human. Living on either side of the spectrum of good and evil for your entire life is fictional. Truth is only found in equilibrium. Humanity is only found in the duality of Devine beauty and incomprehensible darkness.
These walls hold no comfort
For a man in my shoes.
They inspire no happiness,
And nothing but blues

I'm out of time,
Out of place,
There's no more devotion.
And with these words,
I make one final notion

No more will you cry
For now I move on.
You must understand,
This is my swan song.

But do not feel bad,
And rather, rejoice
For a massive finale
I'll conjure with voice

Let them come and take me
I know what I've done
But I also know
That I've sung my swan song
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