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Quote by Kaveh Akbar

“When a sad-sack who hated life killed themselves, what were they really giving up? The life they hated? Far more meaningful, thought Cyrus, to lift yourself out of a life you enjoyed—the tea still warm, the honey still sweet. That was real sacrifice. That meant something.”

Quote by Kaveh Akbar

Book:Martyr!
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Martyr!

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Kaveh Akbar

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“Never did a book reveal such truths, Why seek a name? It matters not; The boundless found a shape and form In sacrifice's sacred knot. Oh see, what is possession's worth If it knows not to offer its all? Things pass away. Aid them in passing, Lest life from a hidden crack should fall. Forever, be the giver, not the taker. The mule, the cow—all press their way To where the king’s image, like a child, Is sated, smiles, and softly lays. His temple breathes unceasing calm, He takes and takes, yet grants reprieve, So gentle even, the princess's hand Holds the papyrus bloom, but does not cleave. Here, sacrifice’s paths are cut, The Sunday rises, ungrasped by weeks. Man and beast drag gains aside, Unseen by gods, as profit speaks. Though hard, commerce bends to will, Earth cheapened, tamed by practiced skill, But one who pays the ultimate price, Surrenders all—they too are sacrificed.”

SacrificeAncient EgyptEgyptian MagicEgyptian Religion And Magic
Author:Rainer Maria Rilke
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“Never did a book reveal such truths, Why seek a name? It matters not; The boundless found a shape and form In sacrifice's sacred knot. Oh see, what is possession's worth If it knows not to offer its all? Things pass away. Aid them in passing, Lest life from a hidden crack should fall. Forever, be the giver, not the taker. The mule, the cow—all press their way To where the king’s image, like a child, Is sated, smiles, and softly lays. His temple breathes unceasing calm, He takes and takes, yet grants reprieve, So gentle even, the princess's hand Holds the papyrus bloom, but does not cleave. Here, sacrifice’s paths are cut, The Sunday rises, ungrasped by weeks. Man and beast drag gains aside, Unseen by gods, as profit speaks. Though hard, commerce bends to will, Earth cheapened, tamed by practiced skill, But one who pays the ultimate price, Surrenders all—they too are sacrificed. (Translation by CoPilot AI)”

ReligionMagicSacrificeEgyptAntiquityAncient Egypt
Book:Samtliche Werke
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“I wear the same casual outfit everywhere, pair of jeans with a shirt or tshirt - people wear fancy clothes either to look and feel good, or impress others, I have no need for either, so I walk like beggar. Vanity and validation are for the small of mind, Himalayan Human has no need for cosmetic adornment. The Sun is beyond the realms of humility and hubris, I'm neither humble nor hubrous, just burning with mission.”

SacrificeVanityService Of HumanitySelflessAdvaitaSufiMonkValidationAsceticGentle Giant
Book:Kral Fakir: When Calls The Kainat
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“The Beggar King (Sonnet 2314) I wear the same casual outfit everywhere, pair of jeans with a shirt or tshirt - people wear fancy clothes either to look and feel good, or impress others, I have no need for either, so I walk like beggar. Vanity and validation are for the small of mind, Himalayan Human has no need for cosmetic adornment. The Sun is beyond the realms of humility and hubris, I'm neither humble nor hubrous, just burning with mission. I wear my backbone as battery, brain is my currency, heart is my bedrock, character is my legacy. I see neither man nor woman, I only see human; I see neither rich nor poor, I only see behavior. Savages are known by aristocratic opulence, Sapiens is known by vagrant virtue-n-valiance.”

VirtueSacrificeVanitySufismAdvaitaMonkAristocracyDervishCharacter Backbone
Book:Kral Fakir: When Calls The Kainat
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“The Devil's Chapel by Stewart Stafford Spires writhing in audacity's sky, Laced masonry's Faustian high, The Devil's Chapel invites by lie, Embalmed, a cracked stone altar dry. The golden Madonna rises above all, Lucifer's War, in stained glass, tall, In horned shadow, the angelic fall, Dark kingdom formed of a lightning ball. Bartholomew flayed by sadistic chagrin, Bones laid bare, devotion anchored within, Skin in the game took centuries to win, Gargoyles leer in the paying tourist din. Behind the veil of confession wood, The all-seeing eye drips with blood, Trickster's snare in nightmare's flood, A gift shop trades where sacrifice stood. Pungent echoes in incense crawl, Catacombs beckon entombed gall, To witness ornate veneration's pall, Silent to a martyr's last breath call. Croziers rest in chilled silver's display, As pink-veined marble taints today. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

ChristianitySacrificeCorruptionMartyrSocial CommentaryGood Vs EvilChapelDark PoetryGothic HorrorReligious Horror
Author:Stewart Stafford
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“The Word by Stewart Stafford Though I am gone, at last, you see, Everything I spoke heralds true, Cleansing your wrongs done to me, In promised vistas of unlimited hue. If I stayed, they said you would pay, I took the strain, assured you sanctuary, I am the sentinel that prepares the way, Evolving beyond the dusty ossuary. Words in strange clothing upon sharing, By living, know your shadow's meaning, Familiarity flourishes upon the wearing, Shepherd's flock on rich pastures weaning. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

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Author:Stewart Stafford
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“In a few years, this little girl will be a woman who will make small demands on life, who will never burden others, who will never let on that she too has sorrows, disappointments, dreams that have been ridiculed. A woman who will be like a rock in the riverbed, enduring without complaint, her grace not sullied but shaped by the turbulence that washes over her. Already Laila sees something behind this young girl's eyes, something deep in her core, that neither Rasheed nor the Taliban will be able to break. Something as hard and unyeilding as a block of limestone. Something that in the end, will be her undoing and Laila's salvation.”

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Book:A Thousand Splendid Suns
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