Apathetic Immersion

Standing in the middle of a busy Cairo squares, in stillness and solitude. Average egyptians rushing by in pursuit of their mandatory achievements recklessly disturb my fixed gaze into the heat of the day. Like puppets they flow into the streets lashed in their ways by the ruthlessness of their masters who in turn are pushed around by the selfishness of their lords who in turn are controlled by those behind sight and common knowledge. I see strings, lots of them everywhere. I know, and the more I do the more apathetic I become. Forced to be involved in a pattern, a crowd of fools, and party of lunatics. Counted one, but I am none. Those helpless waters that flood down hill and push on all that's in its path is only a natural flow downhill. Such chaos is a result of steep inclination towards a past image that was never there nor will ever be; a deceiving image of perfect goodness. An image that is nothing but a mask to all the hatred of a proud race thrusting after the flags of them evil devisions of the fallen. My time is a time of silence, where I would watch and observe but soon there will be a time that is so different than now. A time where words would be spoken through the work of my hands, a message and a rebuke. Time when my flag is raised for all to follow and others to fear. Who would ever think that the silent one will speak so loud; or the still would be so vibrant? But the ways of wisdom is far beyond the understanding of them drunkards, them whom are twice drunk, once by ignorance and twice by deceit. Apathetic I am, for the shallow.. and for now.

Absolute

Tell me one thing that is forever, something that will never change. Speak to me a word that would last forever or sing me a song that will always entertain. Show me a face that doesn't bore, a day to live for. Look me in the eye and tell me how beautiful you are. Prove to me if you were the strongest, the toughest or the cutest. Affirm to me your wealth, power or influence. Stand this instance and tell me One Thing that would hold its ground tomorrow without the slightest of a change. Look at your beauty, day by day I will watch it whither away, Count your money for tomorrow it's all been spent away. Show off your power today for someday it will pass on to another. Ha! Be the strongest, the cutest or the wealthiest, Be anything I don't care for whatever you have will never last. All you hang on to and all you cherish will go. All that you are, All you have been will never be forever.

I have seen no face of man that stood still against my words, none would pass my test, neither man nor else. All have fallen short but ONE.

Of HIM, I dare not speak but in riddles. For even if I used all languages they still would be deficient. No earth tongue could communicate such knowledge and thus I shall speak not. HIM who never changed since forever, HIM who bends time and shapes life with the flow of HIS breath. HIM who created freedom and them free rebelled, them who see things upside down. I challenge the living for I speak of HIS Spirit, of words I dare not write out of my own desire, words that scare me to even think about. But I was given permission to reveal.

That absurd choice (2)

Years ago I left home on a quest and a journey far away from home. Away from my comfort and familiar zone I walked; step by step the distance grew so far that I now do not know see the past any more when I look over my shoulder. I am one of the few visionaries left to wander across the swirls of time. One of those who follow whispers and faint voices, signs and marks of time. I meditate on ancient wisdom, one was given to man by the grace of the Giver, Him, the Sole Maker of all beings. And though I go like fools sometimes yet He guides my steps. I look like a fool to the fools, wise to the wise and crazy to the needy in heart yet no one knows how do I make it happen. They all wonder how I go this far, where no one expected me to. I speak highly of myself because I am happy. Though stricken by all sorts of torments yet I witness that plant grow before me. Observing every little detail of its change. To some I waste my time, to others I am the waste of time, but in me I know who and what I am. I am not dream chaser, nor am I disillusioned. I cant hold words with my hands and touch those whispers, I was given to see beyond the eyes and beneath skin, through matter and along time. As much as I am given, a lot is required of me. I chose to accept the call along with the burden that comes along with it. I might have chosen a normal life, a fun fun fun sad sometimes beat but I chose something else, the different adventure that would form me a very different type of hero. I worry not. My Writer knows how this story will end.

Doing or not

I lie because my words of truth end up nowhere. I decided to cover them up into the sheets of time and space, Never changing what is true but keeping it off those blinded eyes. The is no place in their minds to hear my faithful whispers and there is not a chance there would ever be. Those seek posters and head lines, figuring out books by them covers but i have no cover and no poster. My eyes hide so much and they do not show a thing but some sense it within the tones of my voice and those who knew me long enough to find out what I conceal. And yet I choose to keep it all inside where they belong. My secrets belong to myself where I alone would keep them from public exposition. It's really hard cause a secret has a very high potential to be shared and is like hot cakes to the ears, but after that it turns to be a scandal then a reputation is ruined. Just like a woman, when young she wants to be loved and whenever she finds the right mate she gets pregnant after that she gives birth to another being. No wonder why women like secrets for it is only a reflection to themselves. A man is different, a trouble maker an initializer, a change maker, a creator. He starts it all and regrets every little thing he does though it was his initial will. I regret all the things I have done for all I did was evil and wicked an nothing was pure that came out of me. But for all the good that came out of me I know it wasn't me. He Is a Spirit that longs to do good through me. Whenever I surrender to Him Spirit, All that I do turns to be good. Maybe I'm mistaken but I don't think so. Whenever I take things into my own hands and will they turn to be the most wicked thing ever. Test yourself and see my words to be true. Surrender and see. Maybe I should do that myself.

He was

He gently pushes the door open, slowly he runs his eyes across the busy cafe. It is loud with music and chitchats of teens and young people. He heads to his favorite stool at the corner, facing those big window that views the narrow busy street. He puts his bag, climbs up the stool and starts looking outside the window, people walking, couples and cars. reflections showing the people behind his back. His eyes get lost in those intersecting images. His mind is not clear for his heart is troubled. He has a question that only one could answer. He knows that looking for the answer would risk him his dearest. He doesn't take risks any more. Like war veterans he chose to wear his last war outfit. Though it never covers his old scars, it yet honors his sacred duty. He is the most awarded for giving himself up for those who never new his name, and even those who did, yet forgot. A man could stay locked in the peek of his time, a moment where the world ended for him, where eternity touched that instance of time. A moment when the sound of his heartbeats sound no more. Turning points could be the end of a man's life sometime. He is what he was.

Define me

Today, Driving by on the main stream bridge in the usually busy city of Cairo. I passed by a car with a young couple in it. The guy was busy trying to avoid his car getting bumped again while the young lady leaned back and rested her head and was far asleep. She was sweating and so uncomfortable, I could tell that as I passed by and saw her eyebrows quarreling together. And then I came back inside the walls of my mind and asked myself. Why? Why does life turn to be such a vesicle of tragedy? I had images of suffering and unease show in my mind. Why would one choose to live with another? Why pay the price? Why do? Why be? Why live? why breathe? Why suffer? Why Struggle? What is it that pushes you to live? And why Dream?! How come people are restless? Who has the answers? Who plants the questions within? It's so silly I write all this even.

"Life is a tragedy" said Lady Fantasy
"Fantasy is unrealistic" said Life
"Both of you make me who I am" said sir Tragedy

Marriage is such a scary decision. Commitment is such a burden. Loneliness is far more worse, It pushes two to make a scary decision and endure such burden. Whoever falls into the web of loneliness gets addicted to the daydreams of fantasy. Life is instability and constant change, Life? What is it? What is death? If a soul lives forever, then is there really something called death? If there is no death, then what is Life now? Or is death just another level of life? Another place for eternity? What is everything? Who am i?

I guess it all boils down to that last question.. Who am I? What am I? Define me

Mercy Beyond

Lit with sulfurous blaze of hate and division they quarreled amongst each other in a useless attempt proving their nonsense points of views might be worth something. A generation lost within its own selfishness, dragged by its peggy desires into a dry pit of desolation. The seed their fathers sowed, brought up a dry thorny shoot. Their mothers conceived shame for their reputation. Punishment lies within the folds of the crime and no one, No One escapes justice. The winding ways of justice ends up with a feather sensitive scale that weighs all hearts of men and judges all according to a divine and delicate measure. Yet not one sets his eyes up to gather those fruits of such absolution that folds either release or indebtedness. A black marble or a white one, which would you choose young man? Should I lock you up till your debt is due or should you choose life? Why do you blindfold your eyes? Is the light too bright to see? Or is your lusting imagination a better place to be? Choose whatever you may, from the scales of life you shall go nowhere. What you shoot shall hunt you and what you spare one day will save you. I have shown you the ways of life and the pits of death, I have made the light clear as well as the darkness so that you wont have an excuse to hang on to when the curve of time straightens and the tales of man on this earth come to an end.

Choose life, and live.

That absurd choice (1)

Today, I felt that sweet soft current. A slow but steady flowing deep stream of endless energy, yet so tender as silk and cotton. It washed my skin and healed my burnt skin. I closed my eyes and lost control over my worn out muscles. I was washed away by it's cleansing water of hope. Where am I flowing to? I have become a part of this current. I don't know anything but I feel a lot of things within my heart. My mind is senseless and my skin has surrendered. The winds of Life lift my feathers to a destiny and a destination. Blowing into such direction by the One who made all things. I learnt to let go. When I lost my grip over the land, I was lifted. and when I untied the ropes, my ship floated away from that harbor. It's amazing how life goes. one has to let go before he gets and loose before he wins. Who dares live with such faith? Who dares to follow his hope? Who wants that share in the Kingdom that now is nowhere!? Will you leave what you have for something you can't see just because you heard it's the best that could ever be? Would you even leave such humane materialistic wise choice for one that sounds so absurd? heh? Would you?

In wait of an appointed time

It's been long since I tapped in my feeling into this cold cyber world of nonsense. God I'm so rude! Sorry I'm just not feeling well. Spring, my favorite season of depression in Egypt. Spring here is mostly like summer but even worse, It's also comes up with southern sand storms that are so terrible.

The Kingdom of Egypt is so struck in the spiritual realm by spirits of stupidity and lust. And I thought Egypt was a pure place but really it is not. I guess after my trip to New York city I know this is a bloody mess here. Anyway, my dream stands but hardly holds on to faith.

O God, O God; why did you show me that vision? Like you said to John, It would be sweet in your mouth but bitter inside you. O Yes, it sure is! How sweet were the words, the promises and the hope, but it's so bitter to live for such fulfillment day by day. After such knowledge, reality becomes worse and life becomes unbearable, a burden and a very heavy yoke. And You LORD, You know. You have made me in such a way and changed my form in such a manner that puzzles my understanding. You know what You have put inside me, That which I don't understand but know so well. You know what triggers me and have set a time for me to do what I should. What I saw and what I long for. If it was not for that Bitter Sweet Purpose I wouldn't have come here and if You ever take it away from my book then put me to sleep with my fathers. I shall not ask for the time nor for You to rush things up for I know such knowledge is for You and is sealed from the ears of men. And though You pierce me, I shall wait. I know all will be in it's due time. All will be.

Earth

I am seriously starting to hate this planet. Nations lead by gamblers and people driven by lunacy. Really tired of retarded minds and carnal cultures. I hate everything and everyone, all that I see and hear. I am sick of what I sense and touch, all that I taste and smell. Nothing is new and nothing is good. I believe it's so scary for people to believe we might be the only specie in this universe! Imagine, the disappointment all the UFO believers would feel when they know that all the life in this universe is our responsibility! Imagine the burden of the responsibility the leaders of this world would feel. How many dreams would shatter knowing that there is no place to live beyond earth. Imagine the rage and panic environmentalists would go through trying to clean up earth. Haa! Sometimes the human race hopes in some fiction story in hope that one day we would skin out our pains and fears. Why do I care?! I don't! the only problem is that all this world's filth has gotten into me.

The moon triggered me

I have never seen the moon this beautiful before. Though incomplete yet I stare at it's amazing beauty, its solitude, it's silence. Through a little opening in my window I was touched by its soothing light, I was thinking how much I needed a woman's hug, her warmth and care. After all life's disappointments I look for a place to rest my head and feel I am taken care of. A woman I could trust with my life. My mind stops me, while my heart pushes me. I know times, and appointments, I know patience, trained for long years. Now the moon is gone again, leaving it's image in this dream in my head and some scattered words on the internet. I wish I could sleep again, dream again, rest again and die again.

Valentine's day blues

I was drifted away again today, the people seem so far, the sounds sound so faint. Memories are closer to me than dreams, and sadness pushes hope away. Where I have been and when, is why I am what I am now. Within me I am so disappointed in the world of men. Friendships are as pale as a washed away color, Lovers are so unreal as a fairy tale could be. I question all my feelings and doubt all my thoughts. Was it real? Ever? I sometimes reach a place where I don't know what's real from what's not. Consciousness is a slow moving dream, distances stretch. I am no gentleman, I am a savage wild animal caught in the shackles of pretension. I live to act, not do. Ah how I miss a dream, where I could be who I really am. This world lies to itself twice, once to others and twice to itself. Everybody is caught in this swirling wind of deceit and none dare to face the solid truth. A solid brick that puts a stop to all motion and time. I hit, faint yet now I see. What is life? love? What is the time we are given here? why? We tend to ignore awareness for sake of survival, thought as the clock ticks it witnesses the shortening of the time given. Don't wake up to such bitter reality, keep sleeping in your sweet time slipping dream. Watch the water slip through your fingers, watch that breeze fly by. Is it your life or mine? Does mine make a difference to you? well, your's matter to me anyway. In one of those instances to one of those beings I would really want to ask only one a question.. Did you ever love me? Whatever the answer is and no matter what I think It will answer my real question.. Was I real?

A Whispering Dead.

I have become so thin, so pale and faint. I am an image of smoke, a whisper and a still scent. My color is not to be defined and my taste is so mild. I am, am not. I drink and am drunk. I long to fly and yes I do. I was pierced and torn and scarred, pressed down and crushed. My breath was squeezed out of me, my life was snatched and pulled away. All that I am was buried long ago, alive I was but time outrun me. I was forced to dissolve, pushed to be consumed by nature and forced to disperse my being into the stillness of the soil. Roots sucked me in and I was no more.

The Life I saw and the way I went turned me into something, not someone. Stripped me of my identity and deleted my name. I became nothing, yet i am. Though I was blindfolded, chained, castrated, torn apart and burnt to carbon, reduced to my elements; I go to places no one can, I talk and listen to secrets few know about, I breed an offspring that no one can seize, I move things nothing else can. I am no ghost but yes I have become one.

I brag, to him who reads, but deep inside I mean it not. If my heart was ever felt, pride wouldn't be found there. But how could it be ever felt? It's so faint like a smoking thread, of a whispering dead.

Shooting at Sharm

It's been a week now here, shooting with a new crew and cast. It's a casino, with a lot of half naked girls. A lot of proud actors and malicious filmmakers, a few are good in heart though. I am so tired, had some serious food poisoning along with many other crew members, cast and extras. My feet hurt so bad, sore and worn out. Bad shoes, bad pain, fortunately enough I will get paid tonight and tomorrow I will get me some shoes and a jacket.

Emotionally I am so worn out, my heart is pierced with a pike. I feel as if I don't feel anything at all. Numb. It's just normal for a guy like me. I always feel so and it's no surprise I guess I am used to it. Sometimes I feel that I will never get married or have a wife. My heart is a frozen piece of meat, even when it beats, it's just sustaining my body. Dead is me. Dying was my life. I am sick of people, I spend hours alone. Solitude is pleasure, my only friend is God. I don't put my hope on anyone because everyone I loved broke my heart someday in a way or another. Some cut me deep some scratched my wounds. What's the difference? They are a factor to keep me bleeding.

Scrambled thoughts

Years, I spent wandering in this puzzling, wondering what's the rule or the law that binds it all together. Looking for the one in a million million instance when all those rules break apart where supernatural things happen. What's love? And what's life? Are we meant to live a random life where love and marriage is just another trick or treat? Is love a feeling or a meaning or a motive? Is love a spiritual gift or is it just another satisfaction of needs and habits? In this life, are we all meant to be heroes? Or just some anonymous background roles. Do others exist or is it just me?

For a while now I have been separated from my senses, I do what I hate and forget what I need, to live. All my words make perfect sense if one knows the clew. and the Clew is always in time and place. My hand pulses as my nerves are over stressed. I want to hide somewhere where it's quiet. Solitude is a warm blessing sometimes in a busy demanding life.

It's been couple of days, didn't talk with God for a while, something in me is not alright. Maybe because of the now career I have begun. Starting over when I am almost Thirty! Will I make it somewhere? Will I see the vision fulfilled? Tired, so tired. Exhausted and beat. My body kills itself and my brain wastes itself, my life slips out of my hands and my breath cease. I have lost the warmth of life as I froze my inner feelings. HE said "go & do" and I went and did, but the price was so dear. Sometimes HE shows dreams and visions so bright and pretty, so good but the price is not always like so. Most of the time, a Life is paid in ransom. A slow and painful death is the only way to make sure other lives flourish.

Die seed die. you shall then live, and even if you don't others shall. You, little seed are good weather you win or loose a fight for your breath and sunshine. If you die you feed a worm and if you live you feed a man, then the worm but surface and the birds get you. I saw you swollen, I saw you rapturing, I sow some hope when your step pushed up. I saw some little roots, but will I live to see the fruits? O life of mine, when will you shine. When will you show, and what I believed would grow? When will I reach the end to what I started? The purpose of what I was granted? Sweet sweet day will I see your dawn? will the masks of your mysteries be blown? Will you come and stay, or leave and take me away? Spin O Earth and spin, release the power within, let today go away and bring tomorrow to the bay. I lived for tomorrow so long that I don't feel time. As if someone stole my rhyme. Don't misunderstand me for one who grumbles or whines, I love my life, but I miss so much.

A vision is a blessing but it pushes its seer to a loop darkness. One sees the bright sunlight then enters a dark room sees nothing but is blinded by what he saw. Science speak words of knowledge to be fathomed by the wise in heart. The wise knows things that Intellectuals may not link together. For the knowledge and understanding of time is half the wisdom. Recognizing the time and foreseeing beyond is only given and not taken. The ancient wise man knew that and testified that the peeks of wisdom are the fear of God. Any wise man would confirm, but the proud would desperately argue, but the words of the wise stand tall through the test of time not the proof of words.

Swinging between the peeks of wisdom and the pits of ignorance. But within me is a will and a determination, a persistent heart that keeps me sleepless and crying out loud with unquenchable pitch of thirst that is never fulfilled but by the springs of God.

My words cease.

Draft thoughts

Years, I spent wandering in this puzzling, wondering what's the rule or the law that binds it all together. Looking for the one in a million million instance when all those rules break apart where supernatural things happen. What's love? And what's life? Are we meant to live a random life where love and marriage is just another trick or treat? Is love a feeling or a meaning or a motive? Is love a spiritual gift or is it just another satisfaction of needs and habits? In this life, are we all meant to be heroes? Or just some anonymous background roles. Do others exist or is it just me?

For a while now I have been separated from my senses, I do what I hate and forget what I need, to live. All my words make perfect sense if one knows the clew. and the Clew is always in time and place. My hand pulses as my nerves are over stressed. I want to hide somewhere where it's quiet. Solitude is a warm blessing sometimes in a busy demanding life.

It's been couple of days, didn't talk with God for a while, something in me is not alright. Maybe because of the now career I have begun. Starting over when I am almost Thirty! Will I make it somewhere? Will I see the vision fulfilled?

Remembering

Tired, so tired. So much thoughts flow within my mind, like a wild mountain torrent, gushing water violently with rocks and pebbles. Something touches me within the sounds of nature, sounds of music and singing. The world of visuals have changed us dumb and alone. My single mind wildly rages against all the limits I have chosen as a safety zone, I drift in dangerous lands. Careful, that bear just lost her cubs. I don't expect to be understood for I don't expect a reader. What the hell is wrong with life? why is it going so wrong? Or is it that I was taught faulty about life and the balance of it. I wait and wait, till I die to know the truth. I don't believe the words of men any more, I reached that point where I see naked people, or should I say "People; naked" Motives, desires, needs and strength points. I have become so pale as a spirit, so transparent as a thought. You can hurt me with your breath and disperse my existence as a rising smoke. I am tired of all others, I find not myself with people, cause all that people want is themselves and not the other. Though I care about the people, they take but never give. A selfish globe that I wish I could leave right now, but Life, I was given; and Life, I live. The puke of my mind makes me more sick of myself, the sores of my heart grew beyond the size of it. Yes, I feel alone. People are just numbers when each count one. But where are you who count others along with yourself? Where is this being that reaches a hand for another? A romantic dream to find someone like so. someone who still remembers, still longs for that long buried secret of life. The source of warmth and light.. Do u still remember love? Do you?

The Dream!

Walking along the unstopping roads of time, all through the hills of triumph and the valleys of weakness, around the borders of the never drying seas and the dehydrated deserts, over the mountains and beneath the caves. Now I stop to look back, I see all I have been through, all that I past and all that has past by me. And though I still am in the middle of nowhere, I still have something within me that keeps me going on. I see nothing for I am surrounded by the fog of the variables of the future, Though those variables are very well calculated and previously set to be in a delicate and particular form, the picture forms with time and in time it will be another clear skies. I admit I have no hope, But I have faith. A kind of faith that exists when all hope vanishes. A kind of Faith that doesn't need hope, neither feelings nor sanity. A faith that is counted lunacy and dismissed as foolishness. Yes, if you call it foolishness then I am proud to be one. I don't mind no more, I yet follow the Voice that woke me up one day from my dead sleep, That Voice that shook the dreams off my mind, Woke me up from my sleep to open my eyes to a Dream, Like nothing I ever imagined possible nor even fantasized about, A dream, My eyes are open wide and yet I can see. A dream that robbed me out of all other joys of life and rendered everything else in my life shallow and gloomy. A dream that placed me where I was supposed to be, consumed me like I was meant to, drifted me where I should have! To the ends of this earth I went, back and forth and God knows how many miles I shall walk more. I shall, Though for now I wait.. Still I hold on.

The day It was revealed to me I took it and claimed it mine, For which fool is he to leave a diamond that was granted freely to him? and who would not chase a rolling golden coin down the stairs? I found much much more than any living being could ever conceive! I shall not step back, ever! I became nothing and my dream became me, I became a dream, I live the dream, for it and by it! For It was the pleasure of Him to form me as I am for a reason, a vision and a dream. I am glad to live it and die within its chapters. It's an honor to be mentioned within its tales and stories and to be counted within its riddles.

Back to my senses now, I feel that cool spring breeze slip along my face with scents of the first fruits. Though I don't know how far I must go or how long it will take for me to reach it, My heart fills with joy. It beats a happy rhythm, careless, reckless and spontaneous. I don't care, I don't exist no more and I don't want to, count me dead or never been! Who cares? I don't and I am happy now, Happy when I am no more, Happy when I am gone, Happy to be a frame and an embodiment of Another. Given promises, trained, set and well prepared. All that I am is for this, and this is for greater good, for Else and yes for me. Me that is no more.

Either if I still breath or if I don't need it, I open my eyes and I see the dream, I see a different light, I see a beautiful Dawn. Secrets of the Ancient Days, News of the New Era. I see and know what my tongue is forbid to speak clearly about. Peace be to all, Love and Joy beyond measure. My heart is like a little child, I can't express can't explain. Can't explain why a flower finds joy to loose its beauty to become a fruit and a seed, to die and become another, same as its own kind. Nothing is in my hands now, now stick, no gold, not even another robe. I have nothing and yet I own everything, with authority over many. I need none, but that silky dream. That smooth transparent vision of a distant future that grows unnoticed within the beats of the moment. Although I had to die for it to be, I see myself within its pages. It's much more better to live within than to live without. The price has been paid and still is, every step, every thorn, every heartache, every sacrifice and every goodbye. Now, though I have never seen its fullest, I say.. it's worth it, No regrets what so ever. New I am for another trip and another walk, another danger, another challenge, another cut, another and another, I don't care. My hands wont let go, I hold on.. to the dream!

Crestfallen

Too tired, my existing heart drained out, can't speak or make a familiar noise; can hardly whisper. My voice so faint I can hardly hear what my lips tell. Noisy land is where I live, people coming, others going, all are running. Fuel is how they get their energy, some fest on sex and others feed on romance. Tragedy is a drive and I am sick bored of that old soap opera, that ancient TV frame. Life is a lucid dream, and apparently we all want it a tragedy. My mind is so annoyed it will explode! My mind is so annoyed it will explode! My mind is so annoyed it will explode! Damn it will explode! I can't take their noises any more can't take it no more, can't! What happened to peace? what happened to what we called "communication" where is the "comm (common)" and "uni (one)" in the way we connect with each other?! What happened to my family and yours? I sit here as I watch my home from a far, dark and open place, I watch the windows and the lights, late at night. I squeezed some music in my ears and watched. The sky above is so quiet, stars are still, but down here, it's so loud, so vulgar chaotic. I feel so distant and so isolated, like I don't belong.. Yes, again that old feeling. My difference is so great I can't find a resemblance between my fathers and me but the skin I am wrapped in. Who am I? Why am I stuck in here? Will I live? or will I die? In Sinai where I am at the moment, Lot of people died here long ago, now they live and love. Where am I? Lost in a fallen land, in a dazed community, in a flood of contradictions! So tired, Mind so tired, So sick of the lies and disguise. So sick of that fake smile in your eyes. Go away, I need to be alone, I am happy on my own. Just go, let me be, let me breath, let my eyes see. Don't bother me with memories of you, I have a future and I have a lot to do. Just go and don't come back, I don't need you to waste my moment as you wasted all my past. You taught my heart sadness and gloom while life is all about joy, and spring bloom. I go, no more lingering behind, I have a train to catch and I will not miss it this time. I hear the call and I will follow, I will leave you my robe and my belts, Hold me not, let me be, just go, I am set free..

She, at Mount Lebanon.

It has been years now, dwelt within battlefields and hid within treacherous caves. My eyes burn with bitterness of enmity, expecting a stab from all who come close, even some who follow my lead. I have seen a lot of betrayal and deception in my short life time, ones who claimed love and others who signed their promised on their so called rocks of remembrance. A lot of good blood was wasted, seen a lot of traces for the faithful. All goes in my mind and roams within my mind as I see a new pair of eyes. Friend or foe? False or true? Show me your fruits tree, and please prove me wrong. Prove me that this wasteland is a lushly meadow. It looks like it, but is it? Don't really know, I got my sword bare under my robes, and my dagger is close to my heart, my shield is always ready and never clean. Walking into a village, with all that I am dark, sun burnt, with rags that were once royal robes and hands that were ones innocent. They looked at me, dwellers of cottages and shacks of the mount Lebanon. Some stared at me as I went by, my troops were dismissed to buy themselves some provisions for the journey to come. I wandered alone for a while, seeking some peace and a little relief from the burdens of command. Underneath a tree, I saw a young lady, There she was among the young ones. Radiance of her spirit grabbed my attention, simple yet so free. Smiling I was, It has been a while since I saw a child play and giggle as he ran around, well she was tickling him all around! Till he finally was on the grass surrendering to that overwhelming tickling. I watched, as she hugged him, she was so full of warmth, she could calm him down and she could unleash his young madness. Something in her touch delivered a passion of feelings to this little boy, she could say anything she wanted to with her body language, but not just that. She noticed me as I was watching from a distance, I looked away, hid my eyes within the shadows of my face, but I traced her with my eyes. Somehow, don't know why she approached me. She had that sweet smile, we talked, introducing myself properly: a man of war. She wasn't bothered, nor irritated as all the daughters of these lands, she saw the scars of my past, and the wounds of time. I tried to scare her off in every way I could, pushed her away, but her spirit was so different. She held firm, like the best of my soldiers in battle she head a heart of a lion, couldn't shake her off. Ironic, I like her yet I push her away. I have to, I must. My life isn't like a safe haven for a princess, I dwell amongst thorns and within wastelands; it's not easy. I wouldn't drive my men to their doom, and sure I wouldn't drive a woman into pain. But she is no ordinary woman, I have seen none like her. A princess yet, she dwelt with peasants. A warrior though she lived with civilians. A healer among the sick. She bore her own burdens and a lot more from those who seek her support. She had a secret, and I revealed it. She knows where the springs flow, she knew where to drink the waters of strength, and how to rise for another day. I smile when I think of that. It's close to my secret too. She speaks the language of the old. A language that I speak, and Lord it sure sounds good to hear it! She has this warm and soft voice, resonates a loving mom and a lovely woman. And instinctively as the wild animal that I am, I watch her.. behind the leaves But she worries not, for it seems to me.. that she has found the little boy in me.