Pinned to my heart…
this torn map and bleeding
nostalgia drips at my severed valves
Lashes yearning for the blind white to cover
all the crimson
It grips the pit of pain where my stomach is
And nausea now has no name
It comes in flashes of red around Baghdad
in flames at the crying Shrine of Mousa Al-Khadim
while Abu Hanifa descends into flakes of
black despair
They both want out…
"These are not our people.
They have murdered us in our graves. "
Pinned to my brain
the image of love
that will never be again
Baghdad nights now have gouged eyes.
the tunnels are endless
and the sunlight of infinity
that once shone through its lenses
has been crushed with
explosions of unanswered questions...
Pinned to this spirit
the dawn of doom
and the weight of eternity that comes with the point of no return.
