Celui que vous aimez est parti.
La blessure a déchiré votre coeur;
et tandis que la cicatrice semble pâle,
la douleur saisit encore votre âme.
Mon amour sent votre amour,
donc il sait que ce n’est pas pour moi.
Vous pensez que cet amour est pour moi,
je sais que ça ne peut pas être.
Vous êtes ma raison d’être.
Ce coeur ne veut pas d’autre.
Et pour vous, à chaque haleine,
mon amour va renaître. View Post
Humanity believes in Karma.
Punishment for sins
and rewards for righteousness.
Through its myriad reincarnations
the soul attains Nirvana when
the cache of Karma is drained.
And thus, I believe
my love for you is a prayer —
surrender to the Almighty
with a plea
that in this life, and in this life alone,
I am exempted
from the hardships
I am to endure, for my
sinner soul deserves not
your purity.
Amidst the clouds, the stars sparkle,
as if hiding a secret.
Afront the stars the clouds stay,
as if guarding the secret.
It is this mystery of the skies
that keeps me up at night,
And the dazzle of it all
that keeps me looking for the light.
View Post
Violence. Is it genocide? Is it homicide?
No; it is the frustration of many unheard cries.
Cries for freedom, for rights, for education.
Virtues that an orthodox world fails to give.
When deprived of these blessings the mind is tortured,
The dormant seed of violence is nurtured.
And with time this torment grows to power,
That one day, will the whole world devour. View Post
A deep thinker.
Outspoken.
Maybe a brave adventurer.
Quite strong; a little broken.
But determined never to fear.
Have an abyss for a heart,
Because I’ve been betrayed and torn apart.
But with an unwavering faith in God,
I know I’ll follow a righteous path.
Grounded because of regrets.
And while I’m no Lady Macbeth,
A little arrogant because of ambitions.
Not prudent, yet patient and peaceful.
For every blessing, I can’t express how much I’m grateful. View Post
The breeze fluttered into the room and softly rustled the flowers around me. Papers on the receptionist’s desk inched closer to her, the chimes on the window hummed a sweet little tune, and the eager wind lifted the edges of my simple black coat, because of which I now felt poorly dressed for my interview.
The room was big enough to seat about nine people at distances, but one would still be able to hear their hushed tones of talk. It was airy and opulent, with an aura of regality that made me feel small. The floors were a magnificent hand-scraped dark wood that ran lengthwise and reached up to the wall two-thirds of the way, as if in impetus from the run. Above the wood, the walls graced a stunning, but simple, taupe-on-taupe damask wallpaper that glistened in the light from the chandelier. Twenty feet above me, the chandelier looked like a glamorous, miniature version of the sun. Little crystal ‘droplets’ projected unnoticed spectra on the walls. I was not expecting my prospective office to be so elegant and sophisticated. View Post
