Far away from home
In a desert of discomforting solace
From where I hear my poor mama’s tears
And father fell an eagle with a stare
His eyes red and hot
Like a goldsmith’s furnace

He said I am a shameless son of a formidable hunter
For lending my poor heart to an Imam’s daughter
Rancorous pleas from mother’s sullen heart
To betray the love I ever had

This land is distant
And here I am
Locked away in joyful regret
In dreadful thoughts of sweet cruelty
Bargaining with salty waters running
Down a confused face

But in this distant land
I shall remain
To fight for this choice
Which my heart ever made

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo by Dorota Semla from Pexels