There is a person
outside of time

who created a world
that was sublime.

It was us who chose
to eat the fruit

that turned mankind
down a different route.

If we would listen,
he'll show us the way

and we will discover
it's best to obey.

May I ask for oranges to take and ****
May I have a beautiful evening with you
You are my fortune and you are my luck
This is what I felt through and through

May I wish a shower of life in love rain
May I taste all forbidden sweet fruits
Let my love be in a love string and chain
Let us go back to the wonderful roots

Love wants to take chance after chance
It wants to be victorious in its pursuit
My eyes do know what is price of glance
This is the reason they adopted love route

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow

Doubt, suspicion have taken you to dark
In disgust you are passing through park
From blind alleys to look to pursue shark
On every wink of reality say I do like lark

Truth be seen with knowledge of certitude
When is understood with sight to include
Understanding needs cleanliness of attitude
Truth unveils with sheer love and gratitude

Beauty can be revealed with love pursuit
Every honest effort definitely bears a fruit
Water of love when in trance goes to root
This positive attribute straightens the route

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow

We're all headed to the same destination.
Why not take the scenic route?

Sixty-six chapters and sixty-six books
(please, Catholic brothers – no ***** looks)
were needed for God to make known His plan:
the gift of salvation and future of Man.

Yet sometimes it seems rather cryptically stated;
poor Israel must wait and will wait (as they’ve waited).

Isaiah took sixty-six chapters to tell it;
for two-thousand years has the Church tried to sell it –
must Christ and his teaching thus languish in mystery,
waiting offstage in the wings of His history?
(Wings of the cherubim, angels, and vultures
now beat down upon us, uniting our cultures
while tech surges up in a dizzy parabola
micro in management, global in formula…)

Sixty-six chapters to say it in Greek
(Aramaic – or Latin;  whatever they speak)
while the somnolent audience scrolls on their screens
in apocalypse trance over zombie machines.
The scrolls are unopened, the parchment still sealed
the slot-machine handle refuses to yield;
as the sixes line up towards the threshold of seven
the virgins sleep late in the Kingdom of Heaven.

If I want my gypsy life,
My solitary dream
It does require a sacrifice,
More than I can exprime.

Car dans ma vie bohémienne,
Je dois me tenir seule
Même si mes sentiments m’amènent
À vouloir être en deux.

Je sais que dans ce jeu de rime
Je râte ; quand-même, j’essais
Car sûr mon cœur tes yeux s’impriment :
La lumière that day.

The candlelight that twirled and danced
And lit up eyes and hair
As deep inside something woke, pranced
And breathed a fresh, new air.

This was something I'd never had:
Un sentiment profond
Regretfully I leave, though sad;
Mais l'route gitane, c'est longue !

sometime i wanna hide
sometime i wanna run away
from all
feelings are so small, tiny
what is the way i should go
i don't know
i think i'm not too bad to others
when i talk about tomorrow
i don't know, what will happen?
The nature of the life have
no warranty, not sure
people say,
no aim no life
i have ambition
i try, i fail
sometime i success in small step
i can't care myself to control
at the route of success...
what future, come quick
i wanna die normally ...
my thoughts are so stupid