Worship

The Problem and the Consequence

I am neither an angel nor a devil

Whoever you are, I fear you will soon be the victim, of angel faced devils, starving for past will be the ultimatum, the springs will eventually burst out, silence will sound as a cure, time as a healer, but there is no path, path to the habitat, you abandoned.
It's not your fault, my sexually frustrated friend, the whole society is sexually frustrated, see yourself how womanizers and seductress are born, how sentiments are punctured by bullets of egos, see how the killers lie on the floor, on the floors of jails crying, see how child molesters keeps on calling themselves sinners, see how an adulterous mother and an HIV father treat their son, see how the angels turn devils, see those who used to piss their pants have now turned into leaders, see how the animals lose their skins for their transformations, see how they walk with a style, see how they pretend, see how they made you fight with each other, see how they got you addicted to anti-depressants, see how you use to laugh and what are you now. 
Life is unfair, it's unfair, it's seriously pathetic, there isn't any pattern, like there isn't any fixed time for unhappiness to knock on the peaceful doors, like flowers turn into thrones, like homosexuals pretend to be heterosexuals, like the geniuses hide their depressions, like the turning of sociable behavior to isolation, like knocking on the doors of washrooms, like lying all night naked, like waking with insomnia eyes, like smoking pot and promising yourself for a rehab. 
When did you turn out to be like this, when did you first saw those fat deposits, when did you first saw those heavy pockets, when did you forget to be like pigeons, when did you turned into vultures, when did you first murdered sentiments, when did you first slaughtered hearts, when did you first thought of lying down, when did you hide your first blow job, when did you quit learning, when did you forget about education, when did you first visited brothels, when did you first saw a prostitute, when did you first saw the reality?
There isn't any answer, because answers are hidden in the graveyard, heart is the best graveyard, walk through the graveyard to smile at past, or cry, or weep if you like, or remember the time when you tried to hung yourself, or fall of a tower, or jump into the deepest water, or when you saw your mother crying, or when you saw your best friend being miserable, or when you came to know it's not difficult to see someone in pain but it's worse to see them being miserable, or when you hear tales of sexual harassments, or when you hear children abusing parents, or when you hear a father hanging himself, or a father sacrificing his family, or when you decide of suicide claiming it is and will be a solution of your misery.

Meditation for a Blessing!

Cure isn't a solution 

Death, Oh! Death, you are unfaithful, you hold them, those who starved naked, naked through the mornings, naked through the evenings, naked through the nights, who sinned for their swollen bellies, who fucked themselves for a single roti, who hold their bastrad kids proudly, who kiss them, love them and let them go to be sexed like them.
You scaremonger the families, the families who are orthodox, who wish for another life to be merciful, knowing there is no other life, who gave their daughters in the pack of wolves, the wolves who tear the soul apart, the wolves who feed on the purity of soul via the orgasms and burn down the platonic love. 
Some animals crave you, not because of their love, because they want to be with you, because you are opposite to life, because you don't bestow universal pain, because you were always meant to be and because you are Holy. 
By the way, you are a simple solution, while the misery of the world still remains, the prostitutes remain like the wolves remain, the villains remain like the heroes remain, the sorrows remain as the joy remains, howl remains as Allen Ginsberg remains, Walt Whitman remains as Faiz Sahab remains, then why die without thinking, then why lie without knowing the truth, then why wish without creating fate, why die without the love for real sorrow, no my dear suicide and death are no cure.

Finally Glory of the human nature

Let's explore the world saying,"Frankly my dear I don't give a damn".

Walking through the mist with a burning cigarette, burning deep down to the core, wishing yourself a happy birthday along, walking through the inspiring streets at the misty dawn, watching the naked starving being, hoping they never die as the give birth to writers, eternal writers who are born, born due to misery, who revolutionize thinking, who don't exit a vagina but are born in these streets like the holy "Beat Generation" ,like holy Sagar Sadiqi, like holy Gibran Khalil and like all those who live inside me and you. 
Let these nights be the biggest of our life as I have never tasted true happiness, let us live like mosquitoes who breed on filth but still exists, let these killers intoxicate me to our extreme even if we vanish because of them, let the sound of music pass through our blood so we can sense what marijuana is like, let us sit on the creepy tops of the mountains so we can see what nature holds, let all those ferocious characters free as they are our comrades, let the honey to fall under gravity's influence, let us be a source for these parasites who deserve to be selfish, let's remain quite and observe when they will hug and kiss each other in joy, let's not give a damn about  humorless gossips, let's not pretend as ostriches but as eagles who were praised by Iqbal, let's explore through each other's soul for answers, let's forget about the past and the future but not the present, let's live in the present, let's start together a new life which was witnessed in our dreams.