“There is a big difference between inspired from artists’ other works and copying from. A true artist is honest with himself and his art, he has no problem mentioning from where he got the inspiration from, while dishonest artists, they do things and pass it as (if) its their original idea. These artists are unethical and unprofessional.
There is a big difference between creative inspiration (while mentioning the source) and imitation (while saying its your invention).”
Confess all that you have
All the truths in your heart
Release them all and let your heart be free
Let your heart be broken into pieces by all those truths
Let your heart be shattered into pieces into pieces
And let those pieces float in whichever way they choose to be
Feel the emptiness that reigns upon you
Gather all the emptiness you can find
All the emptiness that you’ve never known of
Gather all the energy from those emptiness
Feel the glorified energy of emptiness
Use them and breathe in them
Cling on to those emptiness
Grip on tight and pull yourself up
Find those shattered pieces of your heart
Seek them to all edges of the universe
Pick them up and read them and feel them
For they are waiting to return to you
For they return with truths that you would never think of
Gather them and build up your heart
Build up your heart with all those energy of emptiness
Strengthen your heart with all the force of emptiness
Build up your heart back
Build back into one heart
There is only one heart that you only need to live with
There is only one heart for you to hold on to
There is only one heart for you to breathe within
Live your heart in the truth of emptiness
Walk on this earth with that truth
Walk on with your heart to find more truths
Find the truth in all the truths that your heart could find
Embrace them with all the energy that your heart could confess
Be shattered again
And build up your heart again
Confess and be shattered again
Wake up and continue to walk again.
ticklish ideas fade into boredom
smiles and laughters are dances of grey and black
gifts and joy are mere dusts and aimless particles
then frustrations bloom into magical colours
anger and tears becomes unforgettable sparkles
scars and pain are marks of cosmic excitement
and you calculate all the troubles that you have
tracing blames to the people at all edges of the world
tracing blames to the end of all histories
tracing blames to endless entities
then at the very last thought
all the blames are nothing
but merely to your Lord
your dialogue has just begun.
Gallantly they are,
Morph into their pride;
The leap keep them spinning,
In their own dilated pupils;
Walking through their own endless stairs,
Along their own walls they have build;
To see themselves,
The Mirror of God.
The face to face the face,
The forms to form the forms,
Expanded and warped and distorted;
Within those reflections they see not,
Where they desire to see the others,
As they wish to see the world of fools.
But a little they think not,
And a little they realise not;
They see to see what they wish to see,
Through the pupils of the fools.
Pity them for what they want,
Pity them for what they know not,
Pity earth for all they want.
The bleeding heat is tearing the sun apart,
While the moon slowly dissolves in the wrinkles of the clouds;
And the earth has been deeply coated with their toxicated desires,
Oh then nature still give grace.
Hidden in their calamities of intelligence,
But yet they think not,
But yet they knew not,
And they crawl quicker than the hurricane.
I see them still racing in the rain.