Not Easy, Even Harder



Not easy

To decide your death

Even harder

To learn to die before you die

It’s what the girl at the whorehouse learned from Al-Tabrizi

Can it be a universal truth?

That in learning to die is our birth

Though he may have taught me a different lesson

And revealed to you another treasure

Because change is subjective

He’ll knock on your personal prison

Once secretive, now an introspective

And ask me too

To search for my prisoner

A person in me, a heavy visitor

A cause behind this fever

Silent I thought I was, now a listener


Not easy

To think you had the world under a fist

Even harder

To surrender and stay still

To think there is no other way to go

To continue selling that soul

As part of the show

Until you realize you had already mastered death

Winning your soul

Answering a call

Certainly, an enduring source of wealth

Not easy

That in the first step, the peek of self-battles lays

Even harder

To be asked whether to fight or fly

To give in once more or do your best to survive

Becoming free

A mystic seeker is she


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