The Pinnacle








For life is a small-pieces puzzle,
I am torn into pieces as well;
For the past has taken me to
A place I am not familiar with,
I am ‘strayly’ finding my way.
My ship sank a while ago,
My words were erased,
All the doors were locked,
All the windows were broken.
I am standing right where you are,
Can you see me?
I won’t give up
Even if the world ends.
When the wind gets rough,
When the tide passes by us,
I won’t give up.
I won’t let go
To what’ keeping me standing.
I won’t forget,
All the memories you gave me,
All the lessons I was taught,
I won’t let go.
I am breaking,
But I won’t stop dreaming,
I won’t be someone I am not,
I’ll be who I am.
I will climb the mountains,
I will enjoy the view,
I won’t fall apart.
I won’t lose what’s left of my heart,
I won’t let go.
I will get up,
The skies will be with us,
The rain will look after us.
You and I together,
We will have it back.
We will start somewhere,
Why not from here?
You and I, we shall be: us.
Toward our future
We will run.
I will see it in your eyes;
I will feel it in your touch;
I will hold it in my heart,
That one word
That will keep us on the right road:
“F r e e d o m”
Is right beside us.
Help me!
Together we can lift it up,
We will get up;
We won’t give up.
No matter how down they bring us,
We will reach the top.

Be the I; Read it twice

And ask others to join us.


An Imprisoned-Free Man Says:








Hands up!
Feet distanced!
Wipe the blood; Weep a lot;
This whip won’t stop.
Scream, but no one will hear you;
You are defeated,
There is nothing you can do.
Eat this food, the dogs are hungry.
“Drag the young to the solitary;
No food is to be offered
And let not the sewage
Into their cave.
No sun is to get there;
Turn it into a grave.
Few days pass,
Put them back together.
We have too many prisoners”
My higher ranked general ordered.
He ordered. Thus, we obeyed.
To the cells, hurry!
Stupid questions, I hear them ask.
“How is the moon like?
How are the stars?”
In my green military suit, I sit
To my well-armed desk.
I heard sounds
Of men with the same melody.
I got closer and closer
To the cell they were dragged to.
I know what they want,
What they should be begging for.
Death is their salvation;
Their only way out.
I got closer and closer,
My steps got stronger and stronger;
The echo got louder and louder.
An earthquake, thought my fellow officers.
I laughed at the men,
Thought the young, behind bars, feared me as well.
I walked inside knowing some will be dead,
Blood stains everywhere,
Some lost hope and others were afraid.
However, some were on the floor,
Others near the door,
Bodies in the same direction
Toward the wall.
I watched them stand,
I watched them sit,
Then last “Al-Salamu Alaikom” said.

-Peace be with you-
To the one on their right,
To the one on their left.
I collapsed; I surrendered;
The sound of the whip suddenly stopped.
I lost control;
I lost my gesture;
I couldn’t be still,
Lost my posture.
The young ones outside
Were the controlled.
Yet, the men inside had the freedom of choice.
And they chose;
Dignity, honor and nobility
Were the only things they lived for
And ready to die in their name.

The Spring of a Dead is The Summer of Another.



I heard a story about a little boy

One who lost his mother in the war

Lived his life looking for a place

To go to, play in and hide

He’s been alone all his life

Waiting for his moment to shine.

I heard a story about a little girl

Who can’t say the word “papa”

In any language of the world

Her tongue is torn

It hurts her even when she smiles

To express her emotions painlessly

She cries.

I heard a story about a father

Who no longer recognizes himself in the mirror

Burns, cuts and scars

Children call him “ monster”

Although a hero he was

I heard a story about a land

That lost the smell of its sand

The steps of the occupiers

Ruined its roses and flowers

They shoot the birds because them they bother

And kill the young and torture and slaughter

The soldiers want a good night sleep

They shush even the rivers

And burry the cats

To stop their meow

They don’t sleep at night

Surely they can’t

Engines are not the reason behind that

Having the spirits of innocents

Hovering around

They regret it

They do

Alas for them, When it’s too late

They do

When everyone is doomed

Yet, the spirits, the innocents, the Pals

Sleep well

In their golden shell

And the gladiators with electronic whips

At the end of the day

Burn in hell.