How It Lands

For life could be a game of shadows or some riddle,
A sweet river when flows, oceans become a pickle.

Everyone that Walks, Sleeps, and Anyone that Stands,
Can control the trajectory so they can know how it lands.

Tread on land carefully with love, kindness is a dream,
Telling lies in the name of God can’t make Words Supreme.

Repeating itself is the clause, “Spirit of Purity is intentional,”
And it stays supreme, “Wisdom of Neutrality is Exceptional.”

The intention can’t be hidden, it is saved somewhere always,
Dancing with the music is the tide of time forced on the days.

Judge not others by their demeanor, always doubt your precision,
Pride is belittling the self to reduce the weight of internal incision.

Stealing fragrance from a flower without plucking it from its soul,
Things you deliver forward bounce back, Ice Cube? Burning coal?

Mildness is the nature of Mary, Milk Tooth it breaks, blames a Fairy,
Everything’s said and written on canvas of life’s stream like a Daily Diary.

A deep expression becomes a depression when you keep falling,
You decide your fate through the change of seasons inside, trailing.

When your ALiF inside the imagination becomes a silent teacher,
Feelings feel like manifesting presence and smile, a beautiful feature.

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