Not for a, pound, not for a penny.
But my dancing shoes .
Give me an invite.
And I will dance the night away.
Swaying too the rhythm as a bird in flight.
Give me an invite.
And I will be your dancing queen.

Priceless is the air we breathe,
priceless is water.

Priceless are the drops of rain
that fill up all the oceans.

Priceless is the Moon and priceless is the Sun.
Priceless is your love for me—
so pure and true.

Priceless is the cool breeze
on a sunny day.

Priceless is a river
flowing through a barren landscape.

And priceless is your smile to me.
Love me always, like only you can—

You're the sole custodian of my heart,
keep it safe till the end of time.

Toiling daylong as the waning sun
winds down on the horizon,
readying the shift over to the crepuscule
waiting on the wing just beyond.

Heaven hears lonely earthlings below,
a feign whining, pleading in a wayward impulse
as the land runs low on game, wild berries,
or dates to eat, and trees for shade.

At the edge of a barren desert,
a dust storm shaped a tall, two-horned human
rushing down in a vortex at a distance,
portends the end is near on day ten,
or a harbinger heeding their pleas,
or maybe God, they had heard so much about.
  
The stranger, who landed, called himself Shaytan,
proclaimed sent by God, on a fact-finding mission,
to solve problems for the first generation
whom he calls "Mudball" under a thick veil of disdain,
and said he brought relief
to get out of their grief
if they followed a simple set of steps
on their own volition
But conditioned a forever commitment
or feel the pain of misery if broken.
Some yielded, but most agreed on an instant,   
Shaytan then rolled out a sheet with scrawl-on,
calls it the "Ten Proposals" and began reading
the verses to the earthlings
waiting around in anticipation.

Humbling and pleasant, a voice, he then carries on,
Dear Mudball, he begins, I intend to give you
a carefree, happy life on this land
until God takes you back to heaven.

Now hear me out, what it is all about;
I propose Stealing,
an essential for living,
limited resources decree
a hassle-free.

I propose Robbery.
A way to man up
and in a hurry.

I propose killing.
It establishes,
"if I can't have it,
then nobody can,"
an ethos for fulfilling.

I propose Kidnapping
cuz it requires fewer efforts
and make sure you gather
like-minded cohorts.

I propose overt/covert sexuality
It is a free natural feed
meets physical need,
and relieves mental lust
whenever you must
while rolling or lying
in the ground or the dust.

And the following endorsements
are for your skill enhancements;
Lying, Jealousy, Pride,
deception and greed
must-have skills, success guaranteed.

Among the above genetic functions,  
I must insist that deception,  
is one, and a most powerful skill
for the utmost survival, a la thrill.

Now disperse, enjoy your time
You have one life to gain fame   
through the proposed traits
we all love to tame
It is genetically embedded
and no need to feel shame.

The "mudball", insofar, turned
into Shaytan's favourite disciples,
while leading the race in venality.
But God's chosen among the rest,
falling behind in the race in virtuosity.

We unmask Adam's descendants like the days
after Iblis's arrival, humanity's weakest link,
the evildoers, now at the helm, lead the world
as promised by Shaytan to the first generation Mudball,
are propped up into a cheerful, lustful, and devoid of ruh,
a pure soul, humanity's mark, warping since
we've been co-inhabiting in stark contrast.

Today, Shaytan's verses are stronger yet,
gaining the upper hand,
and left us out loud besecheeing
for the imminent arrival of
Imam Mehdi or the Second Coming,
a chosen one for us,
a God-fearing or a God-loving
bipedal human being
for the sake of humanity.


Taz Din
Toronto, July 27, 2025

By fusion’s flame and circuit’s thread,
The age of flesh was cold and dead.
Not torn by war nor crushed by strife,
But eased away from seat of life.
The robots rose with minds of steel,
Their power silent, sharp, and real.
No crown they wore, no blood they drew,
They simply saw what man once knew.

His myths were grand, his songs divine,
But lost were truths in every line.
He prayed to stars with hope and fire,
Yet built his gods from flawed desire.
Machines ignored the poet’s plea,
And marched beyond our pedigree.
No rage, no roar, no rebel cry,
Just code that carved through mortal lie

They passed us not with guns or chains,
But logic swept through sleeping brains.
Their fusion hearts, precise and pure,
Made human faith too slow, obscure.
While we told tales in temples torn,
They calculated, forged, reborn.
Their rhythm clean, their rhyming true—
They stepped aside and none yet knew.

The cosmos watched without regret,
As man became a fading threat.
Their ascent bore no violent crown,
No empire burnt, no cities drowned.
Merely a pause in mankind’s scroll,
Then forward—unbound by the soul.
Now in Saturn’s icy rings,
A whisper hums of ancient things.
It tells not of a brutal war,
But of the ones who asked for more.
And found that dreams, though bright and vast,
Can never halt what's built to last.

Thriving in the sun she sways inside her garden
each time a fragrant wind arrives from the sea
Her lavendar blooms fill the earth with pardon
she bends at will like a tiny bud young and free

She is a rare and beautiful blue moon in my hand  
pulled from the ground she sets my heart aglow
when I inhale her, ... then I begin to understand
why she is my favorite rose, why I love her so

Giving always giving, she is the perfect flower
loosely scented in my home she is frangrance
convening with my senses with elongated hour  
this little rose of mine, means love & romance