It's my point of view, let me tell you-
Take it or leave it, know what you want
Move on, get things done
Appreciate everywhere you've gone
Follow a path of your own, hold on.

Embrace the customs of others
We're all brothers
Forgive, don't forget
People often regret what was once said.

Remember your alluring, keep on track
If you swerve off, bring a map
Speak the truth
Respect your neighbor, accept a truce.

Keep in touch with confidants and family
Stray from apathy
Open your heart
Be confident in your art.

Laugh and cry
Aim for the best- at least try.
Look at the world through someone else's eyes.
Valuing perspectives makes you wise.

There is no objective meaning to life

So how do you expect me to get down and deep

With limited eyes seeing blinders in the corner of my peripherals?

It's residual, I begged to shake these thoughts like snowflakes

in a crystal, they have scattered up and down til I can't

See the image plastered down the walls of my illusions

Confusion? If only that was true, I see more now than I see in you

How can I feel deep and meaningful when all of this contrived highlights

It's all just my brain bleeding, scattered my drip drops of rage

Do they flip flop? The page has hit lift off, I'm out of the realm

of what I knew to be self development hell compelling me

To scatter fragmants of wanton and wear

But see unless I point that out you'd never know it's there

Because I'm supposed to plaster on a smile and feed you lines

that you desire to add meaning to life, or add a voice down the wire

If I sit upon my laurels you'd think that I had nothing new to say or never

thought about abstractions til they bubble and boil to heady

broth overflowing staining the floors screaming "my god make this stop"

I don't wear my head upon my sleeve, I keep my helmet on

So go ahead and think I'm surface level, I also like to be wrong

Talk to your friends, I'm sure they're dark and mysterious

They have such strong perspectives, they're in touch with the furious

I need to voice at all times? Does my bark not befit you

I'm not a dog meant to bark at every meaning that drives through

I take no solace in wallowing in the depth of another

I don't expect you to read this and gain a sense of the other

I'm not writing to bring you a route down back to your soul

Because you're soulless and weary, I don't claim that I have control

We're spinning in the toilet in a chamber of meaning

Whose **** stinks more than others, why lets compare them and eat it

Consuming excretions is all you get from your dealings

Because nothing is deep, when the bottom is fleeting.

[A conversation between Light and Darkness]

  Light said,
"We're adversaries, maybe.
But I've come to see the possibility
That you are my shadow after all."

Darkness dawned, and said,

"And I thought you could see everything,
For you were light yourself.
Am I merely a fear, of your and mankind's?
[They think you could have no fears, either.]
I am, Nature's nocturnal rhyme.
I exist, for you cannot make up for me.

An ever unraveling mystery,
I am humble, for I become
What the world makes of me.
You make the world see,
Little do they know,
They see the world
Through the colours You colour them in.
I make them face fears,
Away from illusion-ed complacency,
With my silent presence giving them company.
From mere empirical sight,
I have given rise to vision/ imagination in them."

Darkness continued -
"Oh, I am not here to seek pity.
I'm sure they wonder,
Why some-one like me,
Has existed as tenaciously as you.
I am not to be sought,
I am not light years away,
I am the recourse within.
Truly, I had underestimated myself for long."

Light flickered a little,
To glow anew in realization, then said-
"I am the spotlight,
You're the impactful dot.
I comprise the glorious endings,"
Darkness beamed and said,
"I am the prompt to the start.
Dawn and dusk are but a
Celebration of our synchronicity."

Light chipped in to continue,
"I begin to see things in a new light,
For I have acknowledged you,
And that is our victory."

If they made Holy Scriptures out of our deeds
How many would we put on display for everyone to read?
When Bani Israel was frozen in time
within divine words,
they did not know
they would become timeless lessons
for generations to come.
Not the liar when he told his last lie,
nor the careless while laughing at the cow,
not even the pious while he raised his staff.
Yet today, we read their stories
With heedless hearts ,
forgetting that we too will be written
in pages heavier than stones
on scales worth more than mountains of gold.
So, why do we pretend that our time is infinite?
As though tic tocs were nothing but melodious beats
synchronized to our pulse.

wal Asr
And by time
Innal Insana la fikhusr
Verily mankind is at loss

How can we not think of yesterday as an effigy,
And tomorrow’s uncertainty as a form of art?
We are artists.
And when our hair strands start to reflect the silver moonlight
When our eyes start telling century old stories
When our joints start pleading with time
Will we then finally ask ourselves:
What will there be left of us?
Originals,
or mere copies?

People are janitors.
We try to keep our lives clean,
but it always goes back to ruins.
We try to clean up the lives of others,
Only to find that we can't do anything.
And that we probably hurt them.
And that we probably messed their lives and ours.
We try to clean our hearts.
It's broken. It's shattered.
It's muddy after a day outside, playing in a storm of tears.
Yet, we always fail, don't we?
Thinking that maybe tomorrow is the day it washes itself.
We try to clean the world.
This organization promises cleanliness in Africa.
That organization promises cleanliness in Asia.
But is any cleaning really done?
For every ten fundraisers started, I hear one semi-succeed in its job.
Yet, we believe that we can clean the world.
It's true, we could.
But we're too busy cleaning our own hearts, aren't we?