Yesterday
in Cairo
the jasmines wilted
The streets
lined with blossoms
trampled beneath
unflinching boots
The breeze
robbed of its perfume;
now reeking of
cold metal
But
above the torrent
of bullets striking flesh,
splattering blood
I heard a child,
forlorn,
begging the jasmine shrubs
to flower again.
I may not understand politics and civil wars, but I do know what 'massacre' means and that its meaning is universal, not just confined to the borders of Egypt.
Inspired by my cousin Nazreen's poem Today I Woke Up in Syria, one of my all-time favourites on account of its heart-wrenching imagery.
in Cairo
the jasmines wilted
The streets
lined with blossoms
trampled beneath
unflinching boots
The breeze
robbed of its perfume;
now reeking of
cold metal
But
above the torrent
of bullets striking flesh,
splattering blood
I heard a child,
forlorn,
begging the jasmine shrubs
to flower again.
I may not understand politics and civil wars, but I do know what 'massacre' means and that its meaning is universal, not just confined to the borders of Egypt.
Inspired by my cousin Nazreen's poem Today I Woke Up in Syria, one of my all-time favourites on account of its heart-wrenching imagery.
very nice!!! really touching! may the jasmine bloom again!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Nadeera kunhima! :)
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