We are Travellers, Shaykh; indeed we roam
Always seeking, never are we alone.
Always searching, to know the way home.
A road of trials, the spirit and heart to hone.
We stand on the horizon looking at the next.
Who is the horizon when we all stand still.
To see a world like a mirage, a different context.
And who is the Self when the Self has no Will.
Harlequin
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