In a dream of my dream, I saw you were upholding a wavering, earthly dream. I couldn't help but ask, what has kept you in slumber? They said there's an ongoing tradition of lovers; we don't keep them together when they are dead inside. Instead, we let them breathe together. So, since the sea is getting sweeter, wait for the eyes to cast off the salt. @furqanahmed
You will flutter for me in your orchards, but this butterfly will be passed on to another valley by then. You will writhe in agony for me in the ballads of morning birds, but I will be flying with nightingales by then. You will look for me in your hands, and I will be right here as a shortest-lived and most memorable line to end. You will dig deeper in your body, but I am a soul who can't invariably be therein. You will look for me on earth, but you won't be able to find me, for I will never settle for anything under the sky. You will unravel my traces in your journals, books, and prose cards, to learn in the end, I am the nib that has always belonged to God. @furqanahmed ________________________________________
Save the time for the moment of collision, hummingbirds sufferings, and love, lest you perish. My love is yellow, red, pale, and blue. Yellow. My soul, how weird it is to be the weird amidst weirds. Red, My lungs lack sympathy and exhale empathy. Pale, I am neither hostile nor am I patient. Blue, You are mine, and I am not yours, but why are you not yours?
Who's left? Black and greys! Oh, those two are just after-effects of summoning the love in the wrong place.
Sometimes, it's not the faces. It's just a vivid moment the other person gives, so much so that you can explicitly see in their heart a paradise, a home, one or two kids, a paddock, and you selfishly desiring to live therein. I talked myself out of the two facets but then decided to be both.
Love is the road of the patient ones, of the ones who are patient enough to find themselves again. Love doesn't happen overnight. Nope, it doesn't happen at a glance, though it takes a forbidden glance to lose it. It had already happened where the souls meet before the bodies do.
On the stairway to her haven, there are broken pieces of my heart on every step. That's how love is. That's how people find the one. By trampling their own hearts, As it has always been.