Don't move if you have finally laid yourself in the morning droplet on the neck of margarida in groves, don't move, soul drop, until you become one with forest as animalistic humans' sanctuary. Don't rub your ears if they are falling into the black hole of unheard voices. Don't stop your tears if the butterflies seek flowers in those red branches in your eyes. Don't stop inking your finger with the chopped-off tongue to write if it's in proximity to the truth. Don't stop your mind if it's losing its pain and your pain its mind. Don't take your heart-pot down from the embers if your blood is boiling in love. Keep the galaxy on your face. Don't run away from your home. @furqanahmed.
Although my mind is a sightseer in my heart, sometimes, it acts as a guide too. Name a place, and I will take you there, but I am afraid where the world has brought you, you might choose hell. And even more afraid that you will find it fascinating. @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 ________________________________________
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.
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