Dear Friends. My poem Hussain has considered one of the best poems by the critics and is appearing in many poetry magazines in America and Europe.  It has been considered   fit to be included on Global poetry page by The Heart of the Global Poets. I am receiving lots of comments from western intellectuals ,asking me to write more and   tell more about Hussain. I am happy that many western scholars even atheists are appreciating this true spirit of Islam. One of my friend rightly said while  commenting  on the poem that  RELIGION WITHOUT SACRIFICE IS LIP SERVICE.


HUSSAIN
Matloob Bokhari

Spiritual struggle continued against despots;
Declaring all humanity one source, one God,
Abrahamic prophets rose against tyrants.
Father of Islam jumped into furnace of ******,
And wielded his mace to destroy his idols.
Moses with staff stormed Pharaoh's palace,
And brought down the powerful Croesus.
The prophet of Islam was friend of paupers;
Friend of those nobody greeted with salaam.
A slave stood in front of nobles in Ghoba,
But ignorance, soon, replaced revolution.
Under black ashes of defeat, smoldered
Red threat of a potential explosion.
Those who sold their souls ,used religion
As an instrument to suppress humanity.
Ideas were paralyzed and beliefs destroyed.
Man started suppressing in the name of God.
Man started killing in the name of religion.
Power of the tyrant with sword, deception,
Brought a pall of stifled silence upon everyone.
Income from taxes from Rome, Iran and Arabs,
Spent on Green Palace fairer than in fairy tales;
On Iranian musicians with Roman dancers.
The great revolutionary had died in Rabazeh.
Remaining brought under lashes of dominance.
In this age of suppression and black dictatorship,
Some crawled off into the niche of the mosque,
No hoot of an owl was heard in the ruins of faith.
Hussein emerged from sorrowful home of Fatima,
And rebelled against the  most dissolute oppression.
Struggling through glorious power of faith,
Inheritor of the movement, launched by prophets.
With no army, no weapons, no wealth, no force
Left Makkah to meet death - ornament for mankind.
Death as beautiful as necklace around neck of a girl.
Quran his arms, Prophets’ customs shield, faith defense.
Hussain, heir of Adam, sacrificed his friends and his sons
On the threshold of temple of freedom and altar of love.
Holding blood , flowing from throat of his son in  hands
Requested his Lord to accept this sacrifice .
This innocent death protected great Revolution.
On evening before Ashura, Hussain- a lonely man
Washed himself, put on best clothes, used perfumes.
Requested his sister to remember him in prayers.
Inheritor of patience from Prophets; valour from Ali
Finally embarked on voyage to meet his Lord.
Hussain, victim of revival of 'Neo-ignorance' age,
Has been concealed by the greatness of Hussain.
Logic paralyses, mind perplexes to read the sacrifice.
In flow of river, flowing on is movement of Hussain
Yazid died, his rule ended, Hussain died, his rule began.

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
    My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull ****** to the drains
    One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
    But being too happy in thine happiness,--
        That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees
            In some melodious plot
    Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
        Singest of summer in full-throated ease.

O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
    Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
    Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
    Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
        With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
            And purple-stained mouth;
    That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
        And with thee fade away into the forest dim:

Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
    What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
    Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
    Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
        Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
            And leaden-eyed despairs,
    Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
        Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.

Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
    Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
    Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
    And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
        Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays;
            But here there is no light,
    Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
        Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.

I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
    Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
    Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
    White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
        Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves;
            And mid-May's eldest child,
    The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
        The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
    I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
    To take into the air my quiet breath;
        Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
    To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
        While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
            In such an ecstasy!
    Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain--
          To thy high requiem become a sod.

Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
    No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
    In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
    Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
        She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
            The same that oft-times hath
    Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
        Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.

Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
    To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
    As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
    Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
        Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
            In the next valley-glades:
    Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
        Fled is that music:--Do I wake or sleep?

Confined to the minds barrels,
trapped inside four white, wooden walls
that wash me with light;
creating eternity. An eternity
where your face is forced forth
with splintered teeth, wood grain whispers.
Air evades my lungs
breathing in, panic, locked
away. To stay and rot. My tongue
may become a meal; I don’t need words in here.
This chambers grand design
is an endless emptiness.
My mind’s faced with this shameless
white graceless space which
aggravates my dark creativity.
This great sin in me is great and willing me
to spill the hate hidden deep.
The rays rebound perpetually. The silence
perplexes me. Perplexes me. The silence
confined to the double barrels.
Your face, perpetually, stretching its imprint
across these walls. Blurring, screaming terror.
Eyes open, burning, comfort in the darkness
learning the eyelids inner charms.
Not the vastness. Eyes open. Terror.
Tear away these fantasies;
isolations imagination identifies with my demons.


The blank space is filled with cacophonies,
agony, smiles in the emptiness stretch beyond capacity. Silence.
Whispers, these wood grain whispers splinter my eardrums.
No matter how I try to pick (axe) them out,
this imaginary pencil doesn’t dig deep enough.
I hear no calligraphy. No beauty
finds me in here, this box of light
holds my plight and creates a world where I know no night.
I hold no right, I cannot wrong,
there’s nothing left, I hold no rite,
there’s no day to escape for sleep,
no knight to bring me dreams, no left to take me to the right place,
I am so bereft of time. Am I dead?
Dying? Lying here in wait, lying  to myself,
declining in health. Declining life.
The silence is hexing,
dissecting each piece of what’s left of me.
The canvas screams, it wants to know my nightmares,
to feel their bloodied paint on its flesh.
I’m the worm in the water.

What hellish feeling
This wait that perplexes me
When will I find you

A bantam sounds afternoon tidings as the iron weathervane points Northeast ..
Both silhouettes as endearing a sight as my eyes could
ever witness ...
Astral nights , my amour ..Colorful light illustrations brushstroke the East ,
The edge of the Milky Way perplexes , I bask in it's subtle persuasion ..
Wind battled score and five year Pines sound timorous refrains , offering great euphonic consolation* ..

In my sleep I see a hummingbird
Initially it seems a bit absurd
However it to me it is speaking
Of a peace that I have been seeking

As it hovers over the flowers so peacefully
It seems to have a message specifically meant for me
To what end I cannot tell
Every emotion begins to swell

Stopper of time
Is this my moment to shine?
Nectar taken in order to nourish
Will this flower continue to flourish?

The message it’s trying to tell me has me in a trance
It is not here without happenstance  
Is this dream my new reality?
One can only hope to see

Yet to be here only for the here and now
Perplexes me somehow
Stopper of time lands on my window sill
Happiness, peace, contentment if time stands still.

Insecurity; breeds inferiority.
Empty, cold and broken.
What's lacking now, forever hopeless.
Those eyes; encompass my soul.
A mirror is what you see.
My looking glass, it's so tempting.
It's what you'll never know that perplexes me.
How could you not? In a world so isolating.
What your future holds, terrifies me.
© 2013 Christina Jackson

The terrifying teeth chatter into the crimson lips of a wound up smile, chattering along the very risen table top that draws all small toys to their finite dooms. While breaths sour hour upon hour, each idling ear suffocates the last gasping breaths of its epicurean syllabic tongue, drizzling down the stomach like melt water from a cubic glacier in an ornamental silver tub, and sternly quibbles the stem-like dactyls drawing rose champagne into a fissure of the brain's tumescent humming.

Each finger tips' nail rouge and red, each dry crevice sewn into the knuckles, and a leaflet on sadism near the scratchy illegible lines whittled on the topside of the wrists and the slalom runs of the ankle. The ankle sinister. The ghost-like hallow sockets of where eyes could have once be seen. Plaster and albicant-like dying death white skins forbade from the Flushing streets where the jazz dance once began. And with each nellypotted hop, three useless nuisances could not carry the bridle towards each nearly favorite sound that curiosity enslaved man to lean towards.

The women weirded out by corners, plastic-wrapped furniture in outdoor corridors, where sinners veil their retreats into state run triage centers. Fake plastic countertops built from fake plastic trees. With an M14's muzzle stiffening and shuttering, she who vents off her cured romances will always find herself flaccid on rubber knees. The disease of the plea, is once more an affectation of not falling for royalty but instead the royal we. There is this weapon of fraud that perplexes geneticists, that enslaves heterosexuals, where albeit nor the time or place, she venerates the libations that her mind creates, she lubricates her cells, dressing, her skin ripening, heaven trickling across her humble nape, where gentleness is only a fool's disease and need.

She. We. Heathens of eternity bowing our breaths in grand hyperbole see. I see she, and she sees me.

Iphone, laptops, and the internet is to make us all smarter
But it makes us all dumber, and life alot harder
Microwaves, bread makers, electric can openers so we can save time
To help us make supper on less of a dime
We no longer talk to friends we text
Ment to bring us closer but it's more like a hex
Want to see a sunset just look on a screen
Don't go outside that would be obscene
We spend all our time at work to buy possessions
It's like an obsession
This material world perplexes me
It's all around me, you see
Ment to bring us closer, save us money, and time
But we are always working so much, it's more like a crime
No time for family, friend or mother nature
In this material world we've fallen into a crater
Wouldn't it be funny if the plug was pulled
And we would have to go back to using hand tools
I think we all would turn into drooling fools

Iphone, laptops, and the internet is to make us all smarter
But it makes us all dumber, and life alot harder
Microwaves, bread makers, electric can openers so we can save time
To help us make supper on less of a dime
We no longer talk to friends we text
Ment to bring us closer but it's more like a hex
Want to see a sunset just look on a screen
Don't go outside that would be obscene
We spend all our time at work to buy possessions
It's like an obsession
This material world perplexes me
It's all around me, you see
Ment to bring us closer, save us money, and time
But we are always working so much it's more like a crime
No time for family, friend or mother nature
In this material world we've fallen into a crater
Wouldn't it be funny if the plug was pulled
And we would have to go back to using hand tools
I think we all would turn into drooling fools

How does something so completely right feel completely wrong?
How does something make me feel at ease, yet make my dread so strong?
It's this complicated, complex problem tearing me apart
This paradoxical, puzzling thing that's ripping at my heart

It confuses me
So easily
Tap
Tap
Inside my brain
This is driving me
Insane

How does something I love so much make me feel this uneasy?
How does the thought put my head in a spin, and make me queasy?
It's this intricate, enigmatic problem I can not solve
This mysterious, mystifying thing around which I revolve

It perplexes me
So easily
Tap
Tap
Inside my head
Makes me wish that I
Was dead

These voices arguing inside me won't be quiet
No matter what I do or say
And they all belong to me
And I just wish that they would
SHUT.
UP.

Picture-perfect spectacle, splattered upon the canvas
White canvas polka-dotted, splashed, smacked
With an ensemble of colors partaking in lively dances
Artistry exemplary, simple applause apparently apt.

It was this artist’s one shot
The proof was in the painting
The piece ; joy is what it brought
The other piece, other joy, exhilarating.

Reds, violets, blues
Pinks, greens, and orange hues
Rainbow splats and careful flats
Certain clusters of paint make me glad.

Though, like every painting painted
A hidden passage creating vexes
Faint sadness ; happiness tainted
The mind of this creator perplexes.

All the while I’ve been feeling his art
And touching the surface
Deep below was his heart
Well crafted mask that hugged his face

I shall pick his brain
Quite literally, though it’s repulsive
For this painting was his last, ashame
His retirement is messy, but in an eye of an artist
This gunpoint suicide was one that held artistic fame.

My heart is a mechanism over which I have no control
My heart is a weapon I use against myself
My heart is a conglomeration of mixed up emotions
My heart is a tattered and torn but still somehow beating vessel
My heart is a complete and utter paradox; it perplexes even myself
My heart is heavy artillery ready to open fire on me at any moment
My heart is a solitary device, driven only by its own selfish and foolish desires
My heart is a kindergarten craft project, held together weakly with superglue,
but each fragile piece created with care
My heart is the antithesis of progress,
the opposite of what I need to remain sane

Yellow lights
Hesitation in my steps
I know the unseen
It's the tangible that perplexes

Red carpets
Unexpected pedestals rising beneath me
Appreciation long overdue
Inspired wonder

Dusted in magic
Track it in this home
***** the floor with your foot steps
Leave you finger prints on these walls

Nothing like where I am
No worries to taunt me
Clouds to catch me
This one in a million life

Your simplicity perplexes me
As does the audacity of your thoughts
I suppose I don't have the means
To decipher your thoughts at all
However I can only imagine
The complexity in which they consist
By the way you carry yourself
As if you, yourself, are not aware
So please do allow me to enlighten you
On the premise for my evaluation
For it all begins with a premonition

Staring into the limitless
An infinite spectrum of qualities
Devoted to expressing the duplicitous nature of divinity
To construct reality to hold both fabrication and purity at such equal esteem perplexes the pieces that perceive the local frame for such a minuscule amount of time and yet it binds the boundaries of evolution, attaching string after string, until every good thing becomes muddled and unclear
Not from hatred, nor fear or depravity
But from the tumultuous distinctions made when a pattern found itself being in rear to itself
And then it finds it's equilibrium once the fluidity of origin reverts attention from every intention muscled from the nudge of inner tranquility
They code or key in the magic of three
Nature begets life begets virtue to enlighten the majesty

I see the beauty in your brokenness
Your scars don't scare me
It's hard to break your walls
As hard as it is to let you in
Your body cracked to let the hint of sunlight through
But here I promise you
I'll love you when you're a storm
That wrecks me
I'll love you when you're a still day
That perplexes me
I'll love you when you're a season
That changes me
I'll love you when you're a drizzle
That touches me
Ill love you not because I have no choice
But because you saw through my twisted alleys
But because you saw through my faults
But because you chose to love me

I have been fighting for so long;
I have been trying so hard;
I have been craving for my world to be turned upside down;
For love that will finally bring me out of my mind and back down to earth.

I've been denying myself love for fear of her loss.

The possibility of...
Inevitability.

A complicated woman to adore with a warm hand to hold.
A smile that's infectious with a personality that perplexes.

I'm not ready to love, because I still seek her.
Like a long lost friend that I hope will return someday.
Proving to me that although the people we love may change;

The feeling's always the same, no matter how many times you forget.

That's the funny thing about love. It changes, but it doesn't.
Somehow it's the same.
Maybe the lips are a little different, but it's a kiss none the same!

The setting sun
Embroiders heavy,
Pregnant with rain, clouds
With hues of pink laced with gold
Up against the tranquil blue sky
The pink clouds sprawled across the solid blue
Like the wool baby blanket
You can't get yourself to give up

Sometimes
When I look up at those tangible,
Realer than life clouds
I fathom if they could possibly take me away
Zip down to me like an unidentified space craft--
I would board the clouds like a ship
And I'd be shown all
the world
All the wonders of the world,
And all the knowledge of the world not yet known to mankind

I'd escape every triviality that perplexes me daily,
Which I know shouldn't perplex me, but does anyway,
Because I'm human and sometimes I'm not as brave and noble as I want and ought to be

Bats fly overhead..
My daydreams cannot take me very far,
For they are limited to my minds synapses..
A firefly dances beside me..
The sun sets hastily
Shadows grow deeper,
Simultaneously my heart grows despondent
As the shadows of night proliferate,
Until darkness engulfs this town entirely,
Like a cloak
That incites my own inner shadows
To awaken

I dream of a day
That will be filled with elation and no more
Of this intermittent, unwanted pain
That is like birth pangs,
Unexpected and excruciating

*Sunset clouds, take me away
Take me to the paradise that my mind
Did create.

Time means nothing
a world apart
and truth in black lines
is still subjective

Concrete emotions blend into surroundings
and the mix perplexes those
who cannot live in the gray clouds
of a pending storm

But boy does that rain smell good
the peace in the falling change
lulls the heart into a trance
hypnotic rhythms change the beat of a dying heart

Alive or almost so
the dancing droplets look like
jellyfish flowing through life
in a grace one can never hope to achieve

Life provides the weapons to win
and the power to combat all
that comes to harm
but it does not hand us discernment

To choose to fight for or against
to be who we choose or who we believe
to trust love and doubt choices
or trust choices and doubt love

We are the warriors of our destiny
in a land that never teaches us to fight

My presence perplexes me.

I wonder

Is it a good thing for me to be around?


I want to become worldly,

but awareness scares me,

yet I can’t stop my mind from wandering.


I don’t know much

about this world,

but my self stands

as the greatest unknown.


When I change, I whimper

and cry and scream beneath the shadow

of my new traits.


Losing control

This manic relapse always returns.


I roar!

Scaring those that are nearby.


I worry

I’ll be locked away in a zoo.

You are the best.

You are the height of all things lovely.
You are beauty embodied in both the physical and metaphysical realms. You are all the snippets of lovely characteristics I find scattered between the other members of our race all collected into one resplendent woman.

And I get to call her mine.  
And she
loves
me.  
And the universe perplexes me because as to why it would bestow such a gift to me is beyond comprehension I could ever understand.

Her slight smile with wondering ways
that thing she has that perplexes
with wondering eyes never static
she is plays with her thingerme giggy

Her child called night awaits
her baby star of death awaits
her only child of war awaits
her love, her thingerme giggy

Over the years, all those indecise years
the place where widows cry bitter
no vengeance compromised
when done, right up the *******

There is no more glory
no heaven or hell
for I am the curse, the stigger
her last thingerme giggy


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

Shallow syntactical grappling
Love songs forever rearranged
Hook is loose lips exchanged
Spying your mind for crackling
Let me in, I hear that rattling

Fire imagination and singeing
Marbles liberating love call
Pow perplexes inspiring awe
Superficial burn's impinging
All hung on passion's hinging

Pay no attention grammatical
Cryptanalysis of undiscovered
Love themes and talents discolored
Smothered a world so fanatical
As true love very mathematical

Like glass ***** zipping out ringer
You shoot beyond my orbit
This game I am about to forfeit
How dared is this heart stinger
Winner of game, a zinger

Do we use the glossary when searching the back pages of our lives  follow the indexes when something perplexes
Motions making sounds ,representing actions & reactions ,lessons forming curiosity ,constantly seeking answers
Surrounding ourselves with sounds ,breaking into syllables ,basics as a beginning then hopefully turning us into detectives
Now lessons become narratives not always with a heart moving title ,but open feelings harder to bridle, days forming chapters

As new breaths begin in a nursery, mysteries are awaiting within the walls & halls ,nooks & books of  depositories
From embryo to a first cleansing ,protection is constant ,warmth of blankets envelop similar to bindings encasing the fruits comprised on papyrus.
Opening the world through the first window ,light ,sky, flowing forms taken in with a healthy grin,integral parts of out future stories
The main doors as a cover  ,silence is golden while the words are screaming ,what is first? a daily rag ,twirling of the mighty globe?
facts or fiction now lay  fractured

Fondly absorbing phonics ,tasting the clicks or ticks & annunciations  still samples for future refining
Labeled as language or merely absorbed as sound forming ,trying to become an individual expression
Flashcards as roots into an inner corridor, signals separated with commas dots or dashes ,awaiting future defining
Roads or paths laid out like aisles, alphabetized such as street names shelves as floors of buildings ,books as unopened doors to a new lesson

A long life search no longer monotonous as a Dewey decimal offered ,but click or a flick ,automated corrections leaving many clueless
Even building faith often based within bindings ,factors of fame or items for blame made best by those who clearly see the text
Holidays as often as book of the month ,b.m.i. becomes t.m.i. , forever offering lessons in hindsight ,many offerings to amuse
A mind akin to a vault taking in all offerings  by default ,endless it seems for storage capacity ,Librarians or doctors can off a new zest.R.C.

In my darkest times it's always you i want to turn to
Why it is you that i need perplexes me greatly
We are casual friends, nothing more, but i still crave you in the dead of night
I can't help but wonder if this is me falling yet again
But this time feels different, not at all like the hopeless infatuation that always finds a way back to my soul
I want your arms around me, your hand stroking my hair
Not your lips on mine or our bodies pressed together
I just want you to hold me and tell me that you know how it feels, and you recognize how hard i'm trying
And that i don't have to anymore
Please tell me it's okay

I can't figure out
The color of your eyes,
It intrigues me.
I can't figure out
What lies behind them,
It fatigues me.

Please just relieve me
And give rise
To what's behind the disguise
That perplexes me.
Please just fulfill me plea
And explain exactly
What it means
When you look at me
With those blues and greens.
I think you feel it too
But the doubt just intervenes.
And it could fall through,
The plans I thought might ensue.
Usually I can just look through
And subdue feelings like these,

But my heart can't
Ignore what it sees
And my mind can't
Deny, it agrees
That when you look at me
With those eyes
It implies
That this defies
The norm
And what underlies
Will take form.

Please just resolve
This confusion I bear.
Please just dissolve
This despair that we share.

I swear, I won't dare
Drop my feelings
If you care.
I don't mind a reroute
If this isn't what you're about.

I just can't figure you out.

processing power, no delays, high octane fury, filtered through a glorious glass hole, gaze and wonder with me, I'm somewhere that seems to be..further away, it was all allowed to happen, I took control of it, or let it go?  Honestly that thought perplexes me, I don't know, a whirl wind, I'm on a spaceship, reading to roosters, letting them give their crow,, allowing them to breath in deeply and cough when needed, its connecting on a stream, and the stream is nice and easy, It understands what it has control over and what it doesn't, gives In sometimes, but it lets the mind be deceiving for a second, then flows back in

Imagine the miccrochorsims, exploring their own roots deeply chaotic, deeply beyond, anything, I, don’t understand…..
Come with me on my digging adventure

Care to have a think?  I thinking not, thoughts through fixations

flick a cigarette and lick a split, you savaging *****, sensitivity of a ****

Come wardrobed with me in Narnia, waking with fixed hats, Wonderland, Haunted by petty notes, humorous haunting, actually amusing 
slaving over the machines, slaving over the rides,

I ensure you, I know how to have a good time

Raging with rambunctious rugrats, pleasant and fun, consuming hours, forgotten hours, fantasies are magic, to forget is perfect

love of saggatarius?  love of Scorpio?  Jupider and Mars?   your words that you thought meant something burn up in the wind, after a long bonfire, burn the ones we thought were vain, it all came from the same well, frame  them all,

frame all of them, in my haunted fantasy

love your point?  I love it too, I sign and I go with you, Love your thesis?  I thought it was interesting, lets come up with some counter arguments and I’ll let your string pull me towards you

Love your praxis?  your objective?  your target audience?  let them hear your rapsody, and hopefully they will live in a new way, their new truth that will get them through the day, their belief, that will hold their prayers, and loosen, affirm


Love your richeousness?  have, have it, and lay in the grass and look at the sky, wonder with reason, come up with a solution, emerge and go back to work

frame it all, I will frame it for you, then laugh and light my cigar, that’s what I’ll do, in my haunted fantsasy, come with me!  I’ll show you

FRAME IT ALL, FRAME IT ALL, FRAME IT ALL

Sadness thrives when you are most vulnerable.
It consumes you when you dwell on the past.
It wants to eat up your happiness,
So you can not feel it anymore.
It injects mourning into your soul,
So that is all that you feel.
I know that it is hard.
I will not say that I know what you're going through.
I will not say that I understand,
Because death has always been a subject that perplexes me beyond words.
I will say, that you will survive.
You must rejoice in the memories you have shared.
Not in the simple truth you are scared.
You must face reality so that you do not lose yourself in a fantasy.
He would want you to go on.
He would want you to remember all the times that made your life worth living.
Not the times that you feel you aren't.
Do not dwell in your sadness.
Live in your happiness.

*(a.n.p)