My soul longs to flee, to wander in the wilderness, seeking an eternal, unpaved path of meditation unknown. I yearn to touch altitudes where falcons soar, where the peaks stand as the thresholds of my destiny. I wish to be firm like the cactus standing resilient in the sun, yet delicate as a flower that blooms for only two days, a brief moment of grace before fading.
My soul waits for such meditation, a peace as vital as the desert waits for a drizzle, as the buds wait for the dew to quench their thirst. The divinity of nature is my attire, my cloak—woven from the earth and sky, guiding my every step. My soul navigates, like the moon navigating its dark, unpaved path, searching for its own illumination.
It needs to ignite and burn, like a candle that flickers in the dark, lighting the shadows as it melts away, revealing the beauty within the silence. In this sanctuary of silent prayers and slurred existences, I find the aura of sacredness. My spirit, a paragon of sanctity, seeks only the truth and the divine light that guides me, locked within this ivory edifice, yet free in its essence.