“My Tree” (شجرتي)

Desiccated digits delve diligently deeper, cleaving through the cold air, climbing ever steeper, cleaving to the life inside refusing to grow meeker. Long-since evicted leaves what made the struggle weaker stir on soft and subdued straits – sailing on a sigh, spoken sans a speaker. No blossoms left to fall, but not dead or dying. …

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“True Singularity” (توحيد حقيقي)

Flakes of snow falling. Each the first and last of its kind. All just water. Unique landscapes of ridges meander like streams. All just flesh and blood. One map for one land. Coiled strands of information - all just the same four. Existing outside existence - before before. None like unto Him.