Sunday, March 1, 2020



Slaves Of Darkness

Believing to be the best of the reasonable.
Embalms of the mind
Have proliferated in the past
And today
They are calcified by the dust of stupidity.
Stagnant mind
Inflated boxes
By dint of immobility, they rusted.
Heart of a swamp
A Wind that disturbed the air.
Hated by the carrion even more by the wise.
Mouths blowing inside of boxes.
Slaves who have no cure.
Zamzam (holy water) could not purify them
Nor could The hymn of the verses tame them
misfortunes of days did not work.

Scary Noise

Is it night or darkness of a burning love?
Lost ash
Darkness of a black hole.
When hungry spring arrives.
Around a lost heart, turns his desire
The seed of his land is pain.
Each box has reserve of deposits.
The flow of its rivers, are tears
Sky, the curls of its stars, are shining pearls.
This is life .
To love it is accelerated sand.
The fear of losing pleasure, is a factor.
The omission, its wine, is overflowing.
Hypocrisy of a woman.
A well with no bottom
It is maze.
With money and prestige, sells.
Husband and kids are better luggage.
Crack of the soul
Impatience of street girls.
Day, which darkness
Is a roaring monster from a jungle.
Its darkness and injustice is the injustice of flexible passion.

A Heron

Injustice or glory
With it, without vigilance, members have
Or, misfortunes would be camps of days.
That devour without getting tired.
A heron, I am
subsistence in travels.
Every early morning
Till moonlight.
Neither inadvertently nor inadvertently
But by looking at the torment of destiny.
I am not a burner of hope
Rather, a bearer of sins.
Because kings do not fear fate.
If the incidence of wars intensifies.
saddle of horses bears glory.
I am the heron
My night is neck of ascent
On the side of my fervor so that it does not break.
And the furnace
If it happened,
As well as the leanness of days
Does not sadly
Even if it proliferates.


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