forgive me for the tears I shed,
divorced me for the lies I told to you,
burning timber, a cyclone,
to create a new house to readjust,
at loss, a grave could not surmount to,
could not occupy the space,
neither time to fill gaps so brittle,
teeth aligned one by one,
even pearls could not replace
they told me that time would heal his death,
we are now going into the ninth year,
even then beetle stings come haunt me,
igniting a collosal flood inside my body,
so your death could not come close to his,
no time will not heal,
to heal would be to overcome,
to be ready to readjust,
as if my mothwe had not torn my limbs over and over enough already,
as if the lights in my eyes had not been switched off enough times from glass thrown,
so you see a sea has formed,
bottle with note now posted,
saying only
‘get ready now child, your trial begins now’
I wish you to be at peace Ama,
because I sure know I am not.
- By the morning brightness;
- And by the night when it covers with darkness
- Your Lord has neither forsaken you nor hated you.
- وَالضُّحَى
- وَاللَّيْلِ إِذَا سَجَى
- مَا وَدَّعَكَ رَبُّكَ وَمَا قَلَى