Cross your heart
With a knife; but a blunt end
Of rousing spectatorship
Laughing along the beat of every bullet that hit
As every soul that passed along
Ran alongsie each other; to heaven
Akin to those who watched
Rain of blood watering the plains
The knife that was once a weapon
Herein declared by thee;
A tool sent by God
Carrying the weighted scale that slanted
To the right of them martyrs
O' behold
The tale of the rising of the knives
Thrown away splattered with blood
In the midst of battle; burnt on top of a silver stake
Bearing the crescent and the golden star
To our brothers and sisters. May Allah ease.
YOU ARE READING
Unfaithful
RandomFor a love that I wrote these poems; a love for myself, obviously. And you who reads. And specially for the 'you'.
