Wishful thinking

Why do we keep dreaming knowing it’ll never be

No expectations yet holding these wishes to a higher degree

Walking around with thoughts whirling round and round turning the world upside down

From limitless skies and otherworldly realms to dark dreary days serving as the graveyard of fun, folly, and plays

Like life and death itself

The end of a wishful thought is a death where the steady stream of hope and happiness comes to a sudden stop

And suddenly,  the heart feels old and fattened

Like it’s been overfed with scrumptious fats but no energy nor real benefit comes

Except that its joy was only as long as it lasted, and suddenly it left like a parasite,

Leaving the body like burdened baggage.

Are these dreams ravenous parasites?

Sirens of the imagination, mystifying you until you catch your breath

And fall back onto your feet

With reality speeding past you with a steady momentum

Is this when thoughts become things, and reveal their true nature?

That indeed, you’re not worthy of such imageries, rather let it be enough that you can even witness a mirage

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Immaterial heaven of my living self

I will wait in patience 

Until that which was unknown becomes apparent

And until prayers and destiny reach their verdict

 no rush, I’m happy as I am.
Unfortunately what’s best is that time be taken for clarity

For both cases to be solved and given their due burials

 And toss away our last living flowers of the past into it’s casket for cremation

After all, this ambiguity is well-wishing. Although it leaves huge gaping holes in my heart, I must accustom myself to the ice cool breeze willowing through this freshly carved cave

Perhaps one day it’ll become as magnificent and jeweled as the worlds oldest caves.

It’ll become my castle, my sanctuary of ever flowing hopes and dreams. Pure tears from the valley of my eyes, furnishing mirrored stalagmites of sincere desires.

Reflecting the years of sabr  

and dedication, and the serene streams of honesty meandering through and through.

This is my artwork, this is my treasure, which no eye has seen.

And it’s all carefully crafted by my patience, sincerity, and destiny.

This is the immaterial heaven of my living self.

The throne of my mind-palace.