Beyond the breechness of the world she used to know,
becomes the cross of illusion that her breath begins to show.

The endless cycle of vicious hate continues to scroll the scene,
as many wonderouse victims, imagine life as a dream.

Like hope, the day passes. The night calms her cries.
The care she puts to love, holds to all her long goodbyes.

The air screams each silent thought that caress her waking whim,
an innocence that runs freely as a prickly roses stem.

One morning the cock doth crow,
The market places is empty,
of every one you know.

The evening sleeps in danger and the whispers cast their glance.
While all the yearns of caution sight songs of true romance.

A glance promises the whole world a new,
but true times become but laughs of vigores storms once flew.

Her mind reveals these calamities the beginning passion past.
Yet every moment of living, holds what truly doesn’t last.

Taubah Abdul-Ba’eth

This entry was posted on Saturday, July 30th, 2005 at 5:04 pm and is filed under poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.