I Am I am the bitter story dying to be told I am the symphony playing to your yearning heart calling it home Come out of your corpse and bleed with me once more Look away from the cracked mirror of your world Settle your eyes on the images transcending time No need to rehearse your tears for they will find their way As they travel through the path of my ten nights and days I express myself through the sadness of the voices I plant myself in poetry, sowing my seeds with every verse My ink is the screams of those angels orbiting earth Infecting paper like venom’s deathly whisper in the veins Hunting words and placing them on the throne of surrendered hearts Crowning peasants and toppling tyrants all in one breath I am the hieroglyphs in the minds of revolutionaries When they stand outnumbered his memory gives them strength I am the question of the riddle asked by the spears I am its answer hidden beneath his eye filled tears I am the room divided by days accepting his guests For Fatima I am the house of sorrow built I am the season that flowers bend and wilt In his love eternally I am the yearly water that will quench his thirst Tearing the barriers between the metaphysical and physical earth What is philosophy when a tear is worth an ocean in another realm? What is love that it finds itself manifested in tears? I am the envy of the days as I carry his memory within my arms Just as the moon found himself lucky that day Under the mazes of nightfall lost in the land of Karbala Torn between reflecting the sun or the son of Ali For what surface is as bright as the surface of his heart? And what day can transcend the years like his? I am Ashura.
Posted on: Sun, 03 Nov 2013 20:43:47 +0000
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