I will not even begin with the skies
Glamorous lightweight raindrops from the October sky keep
A star fell on the ground in the windy night
As if playing a game of chess / Still the world waits for the next dawn
Hark! / Busy work of Hands
but i can't. i cannot be bothered to find / meaning behind the faults in my father's eyes
Maa, you are an endless exhibition / of sweet-sour happiness
I heard they are changing the dictionary.
When the streetlights flicker, think of every doe-eyed child that the city swallows
Time to set sail for a new cruise, oh dear voyager Sindbad!
Time, heavy as a thousand suns combined,/ Bends mothers, smaller than the ones they bore,
What’s life if a sense of darkness/ doesn’t connect night to sunlight
Your tea in the kettle, piping hot water/ No sugar, so that you can really taste the tea on your tongue
This universe’s heart is hollow now for humanity has died inside it.
Spacious, shiny, new roads are built in my city to rent them for raw-markets
The hush of dawn and the whispered breeze,/ that caresses nature's resting face
She stands in front of the canvas and stares.
the moon watches over you, when whales beach themselves, the tides wash them back home; the moon looks down
News from Gaza rips the heart open/ Idlib is burning too