I have always looked forward with wide open eyes
I have always thought that I should build MY own world
A child asking: “why great ambitions must always die
As soon as they are raised? Are they so hard to afford?”
I sought hopes between poems’ lines,
Onto the books and underneath people’s stories.
Under smiles, I was hurt by misleading lies.
After reading fantasies, my pen wrote my worries
I grew old but I’ve never given up the fight.
I witnessed babies' eyes turning into stones.
Yet, I spent my nights under the moon light,
Writing to my star that cried and mourned along.
I found out soon that reality bites our vulnerable bodies:
Those who surrender are merely sand that destiny crashes.
Those who can’t dream are walking zombies.
And those who do no longer care, are no better than ashes.
My life was worth a candle that lights up my heart,
Even though I knew that what I know would cost my sanity,
I cared less, because my dreams are all I have so far
And nothing but my hope can make me less lonely.
I struggled alone and learnt by myself that destiny makes
Fountains from sad tears we shed all the way.
It’s a pity to know that, in her spare time, destiny bakes
Our broken hearts and laughs as she sees our dismay.
I cried the day I learnt that she holds our dreams in a bowl
And shakes them, then, hurls them in the wind.
So when they hit our heads, it's harsher than thunderbolt!
We strive wildly to heal such irrevocable wounds.
To no avail, some try to reconcile with their destinies but time
Does not allow. Only the Devil can trade body against soul.
Those who bargain think they’re so smart but soon, they find
They bargained for nothing more than spiritless souls.
Not for sale are our lives neither are our bitter tears.
They can’t be rent because we possess them only for a while.
We try to escape, sometimes we dream of better fears
Oppressed by anguish we do best when we exile.
Born with fear, young we acquire lack of trust.
A baby cries as soon as he breathes the cruel air.
As we grow old, we give up our hopes so fast
And adjust slowly in our world "fairly unfair”.
Sometimes, I can’t even share my burden with anyone.
Out of pride, only my diary knows my secrets.
Those that I thought friends; the wind blew them like the sand
And alone I found myself but this is no defect.
For me, every battle, even not successful is never an over through,
And yet every tear drop is a testimonial of life.
Though badly we’re hurt, we shouldn’t mourn eternally our sorrow
Because upon every tear, rises a flower not a knife.
And every whisper of a morning is a promise of a new day.
With deaf souls, we’re not able to hear.
All joy seems illusive with faith being buried far away.
And sometimes we’re so numb that we don’t even care.
And life goes on carrying in her store surprises for us all.
We expect the worse and get scared if the best happens.
Fear made us slaves so we didn’t fear any more the rise or fall
Because our tears will shed as soon as the night breaks.
The moon coves mute weeps and heals deep wounds:
It’s a dark angel that wipes people’s pain away.
It listens to their cries at the depth of the night,
Giving consolation to their bruised days.
And as we go, no one remembers what they owe,
And everyone forgets to pay duties.
So destiny reminds to make sure they know
That no one can mess with the devil’s properties.
But still, they play not knowing that they’re slaves
Of anguish that eats them alive.
Slaves of loss, they grief and mourn in sorrow waves
And their ships onto darkness dive.
No more fear when we’re living hell.
At least we can finally stop worrying about tomorrow!
Since we already feel its filthy smell
We bury our tears under the heavy snow.
