No Comments// Posted in Creative Writing, poem by on 12.13.12.



By Nor FS

Perched on the river bank, he stared into the crimson sky

Forehead lined with chalky beads of endearment

With a child curving to the spine, gently asleep

Rush of smoke dissipate into the suffocating river

Where to go, I say? To the left, no

Way to go. To the right, no

Point of return.


As the spirit has long gone, tumbling like dry flecks of dandelions

Taking shape of the loved ones that no one would care to remember

Just names with no glory just pregnant with love and sacrifice

I saw her head shaking, nodding as he left his body

I wasn’t sure if it’s really a nod, it may even be a weep

It’s too hard to tell with the noiseless clamor

The woman lulled the child with dying voice

Gentle fingers brushing away dry tears

Thinking of the ones who left and the ones who might

The beacon shone with cherry blaze heat and the crisp July breeze

Embraced them in silence as the deafening bombs took over their lives

The land where home lies is now deserted mankind

Her mind wanders and wanders until she lies sobbing in her child arms.

-Cairo, Egypt.

-December 2012.

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