Pouring words for what you so obviously shroud,
it is a true thought originating from contemplation
whether that contemplation is from sorrow or joy is another tale;
Fighting the sufferings inflicted on you
while your guest ignores them
rather justifies them
by refuting me coherently or incoherently is another tale;
The guest is God-invited,
says Hafiz the Persian,
even-more he is special,
applauds Hafiz the Persian;
Then why is it me that unravels them, is
is it my conscience that has attained virtue?
Or is it my hidden desire to be heard
and cheered upon
feeding a dark part of myself that thrives;
Thrives on the validation your inhabitants offer me,
the former would appeal to the blessed being,
while the latter is the reason I spell this out?
