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Shehab Albalooshi

I'm a language teacher currently doing a Masters in Theoretical Philosophy. I write long-form essays about my adventures in conceptual land.

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The Moon Queen

At dusk, I danced on drum-beat hills and drank a wine made from tears of awe.

At dusk, I danced on drum-beat hills and drank a wine made from tears of awe.

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God Sleeps in the Middle of a Homeless Man's Guitar Strings

All that remains, his eulogy, and tales of sorrow-forlorn hope, scattered across Orion’s Belt.

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احبكِ حب احمقٍ لإلهه

أَوْ شاهِدًا أَناَرَ طَريقَهُ بِنَبْرَةِ صَوْتِهِ أَوْ تائِهًا لَمْ يَرَ نَفْسَهُ إِلَّا بِانْعِكاسِها

او شاهدٍ أنار طريقه بنبرة صوته او تائهٍ لم يرى نفسه إلا بانعكاسها

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My Soul Undead

My soul undead; My voice they hear. My horse still runs at the castle’s rear, against that wind, against that year.

My soul undead; My voice they hear. My horse still runs at the castle’s rear, against that wind, against that year.

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I Used to Have a Name

I used to have a name, but now I am afloat. Above my people's dread, I live in moments past.

I used to have a name, but now I am afloat. Above my people’s dread, I live in moments past.

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