There are too many scents of the world in this place
Clear this Zen Garden before it becomes a disgrace
The ripples of negative and dank sins remains
The hidden agendas, the darkened windowpanes
...
There are many things that have crossed my mind
The words are so meticulous to find
...
O Allah who can find words for you
The Eternal, The Refuge
The Majestic, are but a few
You the Creator, I the Slave
...
Once and a while I got to admire the thorn and the beauty
It can be so tempting to try to capture the richest pirate treasure
Senses are dead to the pain
There is only ice and numbing sensations
...
If I told you truth you would no believe
The truth that the creator is the only one to achieve
Another story another message and messenger in this time
Harassed, lied to, and kept under subjegation a black mime
...