When you kiss Your Woman

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When you love your woman and trace her delicate soul within, it’s your own soul you discover—and when you break her heart, it’s your soul that’s forever lost.

A tender four-stanza poem exploring the sacred dimensions of intimate love through escalating stages: kissing reveals love requiring patience, touching reveals submission demanding service to her desire, loving reveals your own soul discovered within hers, and losing her reveals the ultimate cost—your soul forever lost when you break her fragile heart.

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When you kiss your woman,

and find her mouth so sweet;

it is love that you taste,

it must be patience and never haste

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When you touch your woman,

and find her throbbing surrender;

it is submission that you observe,

it is her desire that you must serve

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When you love your woman,

and trace her delicate soul within;

it is your own soul that you discover,

it is being loved, and you are the lover

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And when you lose your woman,

and break her fragile heart;

it is you who must pay the cost,

it is your own soul, which is forever lost

Where is that Sweet, Sad Place where Elephants go to Die?

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A journey into the mythic graveyard of memories, guilt, and dreams that refuse to die.

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Where is that sweet and sad place,

perhaps lost forever in both time and space,

upon the brazen earth and under the grey sky,

where elephants go to die?

Strength and might sometimes fail,

in the face of raging fire, rain and hail

Failure exhausts the strongest of souls,

when we repeatedly fail to achieve our goals

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Where is that dark and cold womb,

devoid of all life, it’s really a tomb,

when one fails each challenge and test,

where worries finally come to rest?

Worries, which were once peacefully silent,

but now extending their tentacles, cruel and violent

My worries are not making a submissive bow,

my worries are kicking and screaming now

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Where is that vast desolation of heart,

where the sun never shines as the clouds do not part,

where all of us are destined to be, the fools and the clever, 

where dead love breathes its last and rests forever?

Memories, which were once pretty and colourful,

but now have haunting eyes, dull and dreadful

Memories are not compelling me to make a new vow,

my memories, are dead and only skeletons now

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Where is that unfathomably deep, black hole,

which silences all greed, and the dreams it once stole,

where regrets crawl and plead infernally,  

where guilt is finally dead and is buried eternally?

Guilt, once a rare acquaintance and even a stranger,

it was a horse called Diablo, without a ranger

My guilt is watching me with a frowned brow,

my guilt is a monster, a menacing presence now

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I fear their accusations, their dead, hollow stare,

the evil was afar, yet somewhere close here

I loathe their presence and hold onto my spear,

the damnation was afar, yet somewhere so near

My anguish and my fear, I scream and I mumble,

my agony and my dread, I run and I stumble

I scream and I run, I make a final try,

to reach that place where elephants go to die

Songs of Innocence

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When you are two, the world is a big fat rainbow circling your cot. Your pleasures are limited to a warm bottle of milk and your troubles hardly ever exceed a wet diaper or two. But when you are four that is when the magic truly starts.

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لکیر کا تیسرا کونا

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میرے ہمدم میرے جاناں

کیسے بتلاؤں تمھیں؟

کیسے سمجھاؤں تمھیں؟

محبت مان ہوتی ہے

محبت جان ہوتی ہے

مگر جب دو میں بٹ جائے

بس کڑا امتحان ہوتی ہے

نا رکھی جاتی ہے

نا پھینکی جاتی ہے

محبت شہر دل میں بس

اک ویراں مکان ہوتی ہے

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