A subtle ascension

But that’s home,

and jasmines lose their fragrance overnight.

The Holy Spirit, should never be compared

To the spirit unfulfilled, gravely disturbed.

Maybe an amputee can tell the pain of pruning, branched trees

Persistent in their reform to grow inward, rooting soil deeper than sticks and poles

Yet, like antennas clashing with the nearest catastrophe

The human mind wants to reverse the white noise, into a state of rhapsody

Maybe a thing or two makes you think, maybe question

Have you thought of all that doesn’t?

Weaklings thinking themselves good had they lame paws

And transparent egotism, a way upward, a way away

A word or two makes you heal. A sentence that turned into a squeal

A laugh that wasn’t laughter

It is subtle ascensions like these, my comrade

That regurgitate prayer, back to the monk who took a vow of silence for his remaining life.

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Published by

S K

Hi. Now that you're here...let's just get this out of the way. I hadn't introduced myself in the past because when I first started this blog, I wanted it to be purely about my writing. This is not, and was never supposed to be, an anonymous blog. However, after almost a year of inactivity, I realize an 'about' section is...necessary? My name's Sadia. I live in Islamabad, Pakistan. Between uni/work/life in general, I try to take time to write. I own all content on this blog. Although, I do NOT own the images posted here, nor do I take credit for them whatsoever. I wanted to thank my visitors, for still being loyal and genuine after this long. In case you want to know more about me for whatever inexplicable reason, ask ahead and I'll get back to you! This right here, keeps me sane. You will find here, sincere thoughts mixed up with a subconscious trying to fuck it all up. I hope you understand. Love, Sadia.

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