If everything is as temporary as I’ve experienced, as people have warned me
I would rather stay on a mountain where no one can come then leave me
Just me and my thoughts until they consume me and I’m ready to close my eyes for the last time and fall into the trees beneath me
A smile on my face as I know that the world can never hurt me again
My biggest dream come true
My mind finally at rest
Lifeless


-26th April ‘19.

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

If the earth had a temple
Surely it would be the ocean
With its stained-glass fish
And its stately silver sands
Its keening choir of whales
And rocking sermon of waves

The world above is not
A foreign paradise
With its broken-glass windows
And its dingy gas-stained streets
Its keening choir of mothers
And angry sermons of men

If the earth had a temple
Our world would be its end.

It's an original sin, incandescent,
an absolutist's balloon monsoon,
but Eden's air comes in whipped cream cans;
the serpent had no need for names.
Blood hits the ice,
and the dextromethorphan hits too,
and yesterday, tomorrow, a crystal glows
briefly, never to be seen again.
The concrete tunnel is filled with spiders,
chewing at my brain as they suffocate,
beneath the weight of expectation.
And now, beneath this jellied tree,
I see the God I've ignored all these years,
and I bask in the artificial glow of LSD
before I realize my mistake.
Because when homeless men that went to Harvard,
smoke **** with you, hungover,
out of an Apple,
why change a thing?

i try to bring myself peace
in the tall grass rippling like waves
a sea of greens, purples, and yellows
i dream that i am floating
running my hand along the bottom of the flat clouds
holding a ray of sunshine
like a warrior, conquering all the lands
until i've created a home among the wildflowers
somewhere for you and me to finally be
a slice of paradise in a very large world
where everything makes sense
and i don't feel quite so alone

September will be waist-deep in restoration.
The rain today was evidence of that.
Thunder for the deaf ears.
Lightening to whip the rigid spines.
Eventually it will break the water's surface.
It will separate souls from the atoms it inhabits.
Pick up the rock, watch the ants scatter
The other half of the bible has been found.
I've seen it, there are no questions left.
Love is coming.
To the influence, I give permission.
Though this heart is nothing more than a fist of lifeless gray matter,
a rhythm of agony continues to barrel through the pathways in my body.
Atoms and assumptions packed into a sack of brown fabric,
I lie awake into the late hours, hoping that we've been praying for the same paradise.