Rebels fatwa

By Tariq Toosy
January 22, 2003
The Iranian

i wish,
..that i lose myself,
..cradled in the mists of time,
..creating a void, never be filled, mediation for my past, no comment on my future flashes no propagation of my dreams, my lists of
high rise, i made the sky its stars shimmer how i wipeth
thy edges, and crust till the shine was so bright,
..that i lost my sight to it ,
..but only this that,
..a slight glimmer that dim,
..light, reflection in the haze, a traveller's plea, his cry.
..then cometh forward,
......a worn messenger with a scroll
......from a land, far from intellectual reach,
..a long last message for sorrowed souls,
..who now longeth to find him fog of the time,
..whos heart plunged into their mouths,
..and let waves, those
..storms of arrogance and fits
..drop on the very floor, a sight of me,, an act of God, or maybe an act
..of fate, but what do i see, that face,
......yes that same face, that glow of flourescense that
rings the blue bells of lust.
..soon dissolving onto the remnants of the age,
this messenger or maybe an appointed one for
..thy life to be
..taketh or giveth to me
......has sent forth document,
..this scripture, the authorities of propagandists,
..who keenly publish it on this newspaper,
......with a picture of a rejuvinated character, or role
..and the countless lives of happiness,
..and merry fortunes (bestowed upon
him) summoned, encripted below,
..later throweth like a pamphlet all over this abode
of sad mortals,... a testament settles on their way,
..reading: "i'm gonna get you!"

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