A shining ink.
I could take the Light
Into my palm
I would dunk the pen
Within the long-lived ink
Rebelled pens!
You’ve shaken the asleep world
By the mummies occupied
Which had neither emotion
Nor excitement
A shortage of care
For hopeless children
The women while crying
There’s no sign of Wakefulness
For piling of migrants
Who drowned in deep Ocean
A mouthful for furious fish
Migrants who left
A trailer of mourning.
لمتابعة المزيد من الابداعات الثقافية زر موقع ثقافتنا
التعليقات مغلقة.