I feel distant again
It started when I desired to be desired
And no one has time to waste
I became a Simurgh
Soaring on top of a digital wasteland
You can keep your trypophobic flowers
I only smell the sweet pheromones of death
Did you hear the outrageous music?
It was bright red, like a Sun that gives everything but receives nothing
I became a Simurgh again
Because they never rest on the ground
They are here only to bring messages
They have no time for your stories
Eyes instead of feathers to observe
Not to live
There is no living here
Only beginnings and Ends
The middle is soft and silly
Become a Simurgh
And leap over the earthly spikes
And escape your desire to be loved
These are trivial things
Become a Simurgh
So becoming something doesn’t matter anymore.
© A.R. Minhas 2018
Nicely done