The Tomb

a poem

There is no headstone in that tomb,

part of me that already dead,

looking up to the sun despite gloom,

with unshaken belief of her rise,

tomorrow if not today

the forgotten dreams want to be buried,

continue to rise, awaken me in endless midnights,

whispering to my fragile self, shaken with fright

“let it go, let it be healed”

I once wanted to sail,

to the unknown foreign islands,

but now kneeling frozen at the harbor

my own shadow could not recognize my face

“are you the child survivor,

once I knew from a long time ago,

from the cruelty of blind fate,

abusing the weak innocents?”

The tomb, once full of prayers from graceful minarets and domes,

soon abandoned, surrounded by weeds and cracks

and there it lay quietly, wished to be forgotten