In the obscurity within you,
a cunning hypocrisy has found its seat—
casting the world’s colorful image
in a grayscale frame
of ancient belief,
it settles it
onto the screen of your gaze.
Each otherness
is dismissed
as a myth from the lineage of false dreams,
love reduced
to the old spell of the Devil,
and mischief of thought
stripped of all occasion.
---
Each time your soul
yearns for freedom’s breeze
and escapes the fence of self,
again—
with a glittering deceit in the eye
and a lash of wrath in the ear—
it crumbles,
falls
within the golden ring of certainty.
---
To confront
what hides within your heart
is a path steep and strange—
like the tale of primal rebellion.
To remain unbound,
one must see the world
as an endless river in flow,
with no trace
of fate's inscription
nor echoes
of the final reckoning
retold
in the old ache of memory.
**Tehran — June 4, 2025**
