bet I can take all the heat,
as my body grooves with the beat.
look how the scorching sun sings & stoke,
to everything that's country and folk.
this heart of mine melting away,
iceberg struggling to topple over the ocean waves,
comes to sink in my fiery whirlpool of desires,
I too get overdosed on this tempting potion of fire.
but know not what the heat can do to the dove,
that all her peace comes with compassion & love,
and if it is to completely end her distress,
she has to fly it past those rocky crests.
& when the gasoline ambushes me with rings of fire,
I make it twirl to challenge its heat by going higher.
to ablaze is to foresee,
who'd quench their thirst with my fire,
and who'd hurry extinguishing just to flee.
though, it's that heat which takes over my intuition,
and go where it saves me,
from all those unpretentious premonitions.
there a sun kissed a flower once,
his sprinkles of heat running through its stems.
God sure has His ways of telling miraculous tales,
who will be the one to burn,
and who will be the one to turn stale.
holding the stars in one,
or fuming the lights for bitter fun,
heat can make it all happen,
though, the vacillating entropies,
admire challenging this burnt ball of puce.
what's a sky with no mild scarlet fever?
as if no mangoes ripe in this cruel summer season,
and when I am to articulate what heat is to me,
I'd bluntly say it is what reefs are to seas.
I wonder what volcanoes put up to turn out that wild,
dissipating heat through smoke & lava with all their might,
they scream and rage about their power & wrath,
for that they were dormant but not dead inside.
and I know it's already too late,
now that my heart smells like forest fires & acid rains,
falling and seeping into each of my vessels,
like if it doesn't bring me the most ecstatic pain.
each day the sun follows His call,
burning down all those sandcastle walls.
it seems as if deserts wear heat like a conquest jewellery,
glittering the life there in this scorching cruelty.
this rain survives,
only if the heat is alive;
these clouds excite & squeal,
for afterall they're just heat wanting to heal.
centuries have past searching for it,
an energy you can not fathom but feel;
for that death carries life in its arms,
so the heat escapes and it finds its calm.
c. Sidrah Idrees (My Evocative Lullabies)
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