In a different fareed uniqueness

In the mere spectrum.
The prism of life going from boy to husband, girl to wife.
Echo me, sweet ones and like a sweet token of affection not infection.
A transfer of echoing my silhouettes and camouflaging tools of death or desire, echo my soul, etch my prisms go with the flow of equibilium and influences the depths of and enter my gateways of tranquils waters and edging across different seas, getting past all enemies, being like tooth and nail, the creator never fails forget about whip appeal.
Bring the lost desires and lust demons of my soul that quakes like earthquakes and shatters when all love and lust, desires, and pinnacles, attachments and genres, being staged and not being played, what happened to the ancestors spirits whom captured them, and told their souls , no rest never finished work, still waiting to give birth and echo the past greatness of the ancestors dwellings , works, and inspirations and aspirations ; who took paradise and said no, to go and leave like leaves fallen off the trees, and where is the continuum of generations to come and move on like a baton, who will grasp the future and win be the champion?