Surrounded by colorful flowers,
They are weeping and withering,
Without sorrow, without prayer,
But only the quiet wind blowing.

I wake up from the darkness,
couldn't see, couldn't move.
But can feel the phantom pain,
twining around my neck.

Though I don't know what it is
but feel its slender and cold body.
It is hissing, crawling and tightening.  
All this makes me more conscious.

At the moment, I knew I was defeated.
I lost miserably against it,
but I know I will not lose myself,
Will not let the soul fall deeply.

II.
Not some single figurine, some deity,
Not a constant, but personalities -
Building character unto this display.
A display which at any point may contain
Agents of democracy, agents of duty.
Patrons of lore,
Willed sacrifice, shameful enterprise
Composing.

III.
The possibilities, never outcomes nor complete,
The regrets and the hopes – short precedence.
Hungry for more, a bitter taste,
The bit between my teeth
That I cannot remove.
The celebrated in silence,
The onlooker once looked on.

IV.
The transgression vivid
Septic and Skeptic,
Motioned,
A reference to nothing,
A vision in memory.
Seer who seeks
Motif.

I.
My body
And
My ghost
Are fighting
For
My soul.

A clinging cycle
Between the sounds,
Death and despair,
Fonds the armor.
Like a secret
That does not yet exist.
Like temptation
who's buried six feet.

V.
And who am I?
Who
Witnesses
This public protection
Against a native affair
Reflected across waters?

A mere escapee,
Who once fought on
The front,
Until I stole
The enemy’s name
Whose last murmur was
"You."

I keep hearing the question, 
“would you speak to a friend like that?” 
No, I would not. 

But

friend? What friend? Were we supposed 
to be friends? I would never befriend 
someone like this. Who suffocates me. 

Who’s so toxic I’ve caught ***** in my 
throat, eroding my will to breathe. Who 
wields a heavy fist and punishes with 
violence. Who lights silences with flames. 

No, you are not my friend.

-
by Aleksander Mielnikow | Alek the Poet

So it’s like that?
For so long we’ve been estranged
All because you wanted “change.”
Oh you like that?
Feeling like you’ve grown
Because you abandoned everything you’ve known?
I’m deep in your bones.
You think you could’ve survived
Out there on your own?
No, no, no….
It was me that you ran to
When the world couldn’t stand you
This picture that you paint is so contrived.
I won’t be ignored.
Show them who you wish to be,
I’m as much of you as you are of me.
I’ll be around to collect my debt
Because the mirror won’t let you forget.

Only ever with an enemy,
Glaring with blood-red eyes at our backs,
Do we talk.

Only ever with an enemy,
Snapping words of disgust
In our faces,
Do we unite.

Only ever with an enemy,
Splintering the world and all within to pieces,
Do we become sisters,
Do we become ourselves again.

So I ask,
In a voice no more than a whisper,
With a shadow of pure wrath spreading,
'Who are you truly?'
And 'Why only ever...with an enemy?'

If you become a slave of your habits, you start dying slowly. The enemy outside is less lethal than your inner self. To attain closeness with the creator, one must **** oneself in this life and this struggle is the biggest Jihad and also the very first step of Tasawwuf. The ultimate goal is to become one with the creator, the Nafs e Mutmainnah, the one who can say Ana al Haq. These steps are easy to write, beautiful to read but the hardest thing for a human being to accomplish and then maintain and in our era where we are fighting the last war against the forces which stop a person to attain this paradise on earth aka Shaitan, these hardships have reached their peak. But one must continuously strive for killing oneself and should remind oneself that we are spiritual beings on a physical journey. | Kashif Khalid | 31-10-19

Friends?
I don't have any
Enemies?
Everyone
Why?
Nobody is perfect
Someone is going to hurt you
Lies
Gossip
Cheat
Or just leave you for good
Don't trust anyone
Not even yourself

Like a cancer I cling to you when I should turn away,
Darkness, please don't fill this space,
Sorrow, please delay.

An incessent yearning leaking onto my ideas, the colour of dismay,
Suicide, be gone from mind,
Please creation, not decay.


The memory of you, a wound untreated, a jewel I locked away,
Me, a safe for your callous act,
Please, don't you dare stay.


Your company, Vincent's night robbed of stars in the cruelest way,
Myself, a ***** amongst kings,
At least, that's what you would say.


Knowing better and feeling worse, duality in the doorway,
A love you have dispassionately marred,
No more prophetic ray.


The clouds are clearing, no thanks to you and your own ego's way,
Light, within me to be found,
And this is my new day!