Of its existence a question,
Manifests its self as frustration,
Some call it the hearts ignition,
Or just blind obsession,
Everlasting or just passing rain,
Joy or the initiation of the coming pain,
Why does the heart feel strain?
Unfamiliar feelings delivered from a different plain,
Confusion bursting into flames of attraction,
Desire that inspires the laying of foundation,
Sweeping winds inducing strong emotion,
Almost mystical how it makes the spirit lift,
Thoughts of making obstacles as big mountains shift,
Only to find you’re self frozen in expectancy stiff?
Blinded from the begin, as one cannot see with the heart,
Reality and mental fiction merge and cant be pulled apart,
The poison that intoxicates the system was inhaled at the start,
Tiptoeing on the edge of existence at any moment losing footing,
Yet it’s at this moment that you can actually feel amongst the living,
Not a single thought is extended to logic or true reasoning,
No question about it for then it is simple madness,
Because some times it is uttered by the eyes wordless,
It is most beautiful when it is effortless, genuine and nothing less,
And when it is found in its entirety, it is doubtless,
Hamza Egal
copyright © 2010
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