Hallelujah.

His every breath, my sustenance;

for I am weak without His voice.

Humbled by His covenant, 

in His worship we rejoice.

For God so loved the world,

he gave His only begotten son.

He has wisdom of every pearl,

thy kingdom come, thy will be done.

Give us this day our daily bread,

His kindness shows us mercy.

For our sins, our shepherd bled,

of His sacrifice, I am unworthy.

The world burns and evil reigns,

when will our Saviour come again?

Only He can heal my pain;

in His name we pray. Amen

Silence IS Golden.

It is the appeal of stolen, serene moments during unhuman, late-night hours; in this solitude I rediscover fragments of me, that I'd anxiously been losing. 

Insomnia, although nefarious, provides these opportunities for introspection, where I've learned to love the silence, that is as melodious as violins. 

Here, amidst all of the violent stimuli that I'd ignored, I reflect on the many lessons through which I've been transformed.

I've learned to bite my tongue and eat my acid words; without this realization, my loved ones would have all flown away like frightened birds. 

My growth has come through counting blessings; gratitude keeps me grounded. It was in these cathartic sessions, I lost my attachment to material possessions. 

Alone time needn't feel lonely, it recentres our soul, reminding us to keep evolving, for it's the secret to becoming whole.

Noor.

As noble as Noor Jahan, 

she nestles, like the fragrant nectar 

of nourishing neem. 

Unbeknownst to her, 

her pheromenes emit steam

that lures many suitors.

With the exact majesty 

of her maharani predecessors,

she silently seduces from

the sanctity of her sequined settee. 

Pervasion.

It is blurred lines and electric shock;

when your brain declares war on your world, unleashing an endless barrage of twists and turns. 

Like a tyrant foaming at the mouth for power, it attacks you from behind then tries to tell you that it loves you. 

Running on empty, the highs soar through pastel skies transforming you into superman; with serotonin as your sole disguise.

Shopping sprees take your hard earned money turning it to dust; your reality bursts into flames, your thoughts begin to rust. 

Like the walking dead, your lack of sleep takes the lead, treating paranoia like an honoured guest. 

Anxiety, conspiracy, and chaos hold seats in the polluted parliament inside your head, each chipping away at your sanity, pushing you closer to the edge. 

At the brink of madness, betrayal holds secret meetings with despair, causing your only light to flicker, before it finally fails.