Untitled No. 3

by nourayasmine   Apr 15, 2018


This Friday was the darkest. Darker
than the streets of this city after 8:00pm,
darker than the last national reconciliation,
and the last words of that 17 year old captive
whose words and tears were the only things
left for her waiting parents.

This Friday, we started searching
for the will to live.

I don't want to move on,
carrying this fear around my neck.
I don't want to move on,
with my heart beating heavily every time
it rains, because the damned sound of
thunder reminds me of every damned bomb.
I don't want to move on,
if these memories are moving with me.

I don't want to move on.
I don't want to move on.

4


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Latest Comments

  • 1 year ago

    by - Mr. Darcy

    I can't even imagine this weight of fear. Reading this makes me want to pray for a solution, for peace.

    I pray for the ability to move on, freely and with light steps.

  • 1 year ago

    by Michael

    noyourasmine

    This is a very sad piece, and my heart goes out to you all and all the innocent in these dark times. You have portrayed this very well here, its a shame it is not a happier time.

    Much love and peace
    Michael x

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