• themoonandthesun 23w

    We all know the situation in Afghanistan. I know from afar a poem and a hashtag won't help. But I wanted to write something. I don't know how long this "Josh" of mine will last, but I can't help and feel sorry, for them who kill for the God, as if your God asked for bloodshed, as if "he" hates women and their freedom, as if "he" can't take a joke. I feel sorry for those who devour other humans for their own pleasure (I read Sanam's post and it hits hard)

    I just feel so small and helpless and frustrated, that I wanted to write. I don't know if you guys have read "The Kite Runner" If not do read it. Few references in the poem are from that book.

    I know this is all over the place, my thoughts are and this poems is. I'm restless and worried.

    #aslongas @miraquill @writersnetwork
    @fromwitchpen I remember you told me to not call my write-ups lame because they define me. You told me I'm strong. Thank you Sanam

    As long as I'm alive I'll write
    I'll write for those who can't

    For those who get killed
    In the name of peace
    Your and mine
    For Us
    For the "World Peace"

    As long as I'm alive
    I won't let you justify
    Collateral Damage in the name of peace

    Read More

    I Blend to Save My Life and I Blend to Fight Back

    //As long as I blend
    I won't be butchered//

    Dwarfed, hung head and sealed lips
    My stooping self stacked in black
    I sneak along the arid road
    Barefoot with mumbled steps
    Alarmingly panicked I look for the prowl
    I stall in quest of a safe haven

    In a systematic segregation
    "The Gendered Apartheid"
    They burned my books, shot her dead
    Covered me up yet tore my dress
    It was a gradual process
    Studied and analysed tactic
    They pounced on my land
    In the name of peace and God
    Promised protection and salvation
    None asked my opinion or permission

    In vain I wailed
    With unshed tears and zipped lips
    Dark nights and black sun
    Hopes dead yet dreams burned
    In this desert of prophets
    Beneath the pomegranate
    I stare at the kites high
    Puppets controlled by bonny hands
    Mighty flight till broken string

    //As long as I'm alive,
    I'll blend to survive
    With dreams of flight
    Like the kite in my hand//