It seems to me that perhaps
you have developed a certain fondness
for these forgettable empires,
and these peccable bearers of the crown.
When all your safe havens collapse,
you whisper “bad omen must be upon us”.
But with my soul still sky-high.
how could I ever camouflage with the ground?
Where empty ribcages reside,
hunting for their beloved sapphire.
Said “A one or two is all I desire”,
then drove to madness chasing several.
Find yourself a hideout,
call it home and try to paint it.
Knowing well there can be no quick fix
for a bedlam this gravely tainted.
You are prepared to stay anyway
but I’m not well-acquainted
with all that’s ephemeral.
Every writing on the wall
we laughed at
Fakhra Ahmad, “All That’s Ephemeral”
This dreary cold appears to be unceasing;
It seems I have been frozen for a while.
to stop my faith from bleeding.
to reciprocate a smile.
to stop a friend from leaving.
But when the summer sun is breathingFakhra Ahmad, “Too Frozen”
and the summer breeze is free;
with the liberating warmth unsheathing,
melting the ice inside of me.
I can be a raging flame with gems incised.
I can be the chaos inside coming undone.
But before you may ever realize,
I’ll morph into a fading wretched winter sun.
Out of your touch,
In front of your eyes;
not to be felt,
merely in existence.
as I lay in your skies.
And I’ll watch you
as you disappear in the distance.Fakhra Ahmad, “Wretched Winter Sun“