Eventually, I had given myself to the simple pleasures of fear,
To protect against the wild whims of thought about life after death.
Even if there were to be a peace found amidst my atoms dimmed,
Regrettably, it is human nature to imagine life survives all.
Never have I known a sun collapsed, the sands of time run out.
All that is known speaks to me, of a comfort I cannot possibly go without.
Life may be torturous, pitiful and hideous, a plague to my blood.
So much so that the mind wonders about things known not of.
Let it be not ever the case, however, because then I’d be damned!
Even when, like an antique roman, my tongue knows poison like a salve.
Escape only your mind, your mind, your mind—is thinking not your strife?
Perhaps that is what must be done, my pearls are water, my pleasure is life. Roukia Ali (Kia, she/her) is an Honors English Literature and Creative Writing student based in Toronto.
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