Today i'm not liking anything.
The words are all scata.
If I could I would bury my face
In the rose of Arabic to know
What that cryptic script contains.
Romance alphabets cannot hold
A candle to that flame.
The rose I hold, its indescribable scent
Laced through the nose and brain,
Is a mountainside of fresh air,
Light as snow that blows upward.
Tomorrow I will bow to Sanskrit,
Kanji and Han, hide in caves and draw
Sustainance on the walls where
Somnolence and somnambulance
Coalesce in sleepless nights
Spent praying for dreams to come.
These I believe will be carried
In gondolas made of hollowed logs,
Steeped in Latin and Greek,
On streams of silver and gold
In the morning and at night,
respectively,
With the dust of evergreens
On our shoulders and in our hair.
Today I'm not liking anything,
But tomorrow is another day.
I M NOT LIKE ANYTHING IS RIGHT THIS TYPE OF PROB;LEM COME IN LIFE WHEN ANY PROBLEM IN LIFE AND THEY DON'T LOVE ANY THING LIKE THEY SUFFER DIVORCE TYPE OF PROBLEM MY LIFE THIS TYPE OF PROBLEM ALSO COME גירושין
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