Only the strong
     can be pierced by the sharp sword of truth
Only the strong
     walk unarmed unafraid into the fire
Only the strong
     carry the weak and shield the hapless
For strong is its own master
     never servant to mere powers

Cast out the chorus
that tell of dreams
of a life fulfilled
restricted
and less

Naked
I feel it
on my skin
the freedom to enjoy
myself

No fears
No judgements
No hidden spirits
tormenting my existence
to tell me lies
and divide

Lets abandon this
sail on flying ships
hedonistic
feverish

be the me
I see in my dreams
the animal
the master
Goddess incarnate

The day on a high
reaches the peak
over the pyramid.
Shrouded in twilight
now tucked in light
pushes the envelope.
The whole panache of stars
came out in the pitch dark.
The North Star is on the way
oh do me a favour
I will tell you why.

Veil the angle of dawn
in the black shades of the night.
There are dark caves
even inside the pyramid
scientists, trained eyes
yet to tread on that way.

Put on it only an instance of your kohl
the daylight is already a burnt mole.
Light in the wrap in the night
your muslin veiled silken moonlight
is enough to find the tuberose’s earth.

If the tucked away sun crops up
once again over the morning’s rose petals.
Again it will dive deep into the angle
after an angle in the black hole of the night.
A far cry from the glowing firefly
eyeing blindfolded behind the moon
perfectly beyond every looking star.
Until the master arts in silk black finds the true pencil
not in visualising but catching the views of the sunrise
through the lens of the rose pollens’ kohl-eyes.

life ain't the master
of me no longer i tell
it what i will do

it is not me
it is the computer

i do what it tells me to
i am puppet to the master

old reality lost
we created

we control it's true
mistakes are made

not by sentient circuits
dumb humans

Fate that's placed can often fade
as not all future states of intent are set.
The red direction changes status
with which short term paths to step ahead,
when we seek highs but lows commence.

A complex collective mix and match
of varied voices within each pack.
Try to listen softly as your intuition leads,
as ego driven voids a balanced clarity.
Are we lost in the broth life serves us,
between the choice of salt or sweet.

Drawn towards distant points imagined
through our lost and found realities.
Find space in time to recuperate,
when you let the mind wander and lust,
remembering we're here to master masts.

dog my friend my dog
he is master i love him
we **** together

Who am I to question,
When hardships befall over me?
Let it be a vast circle of bulky mountains,
Ensnaring me from all sides.
If I fall into a threatening void,
A void that gnaws at my soul,
And is ravenous for my worn-out soul,
That helps me encounter more turbulences.

But who am I to question my tolerance of enduring a void that ravens for troubles for me?
When my Master, the Beloved of the Almighty,
Stated that Muslims are prepared to confront
Whatever situation they may face with their faith.

With my faith,
I can pull myself out of the void,
Shove off bulky mountains,
because
they ain't heavier than my
Iman.

finally, she has learned how to
love herself, till the sun shines
and moon comes back—
to lighten the night
the storms calm down,
waves become ceased
and the ocean is tranquil
in all chapters of her life
she has mastered the techniques
of surviving in hell