Blessed be the martyrs

Rejoice… My dearest.

Rejoice…
For the soul that was birthed into the warmth of a bosom where the heartbeat echoes the whistles of the falling Armageddon.

Rejoice…
For the eyes that witness the fireworks of destruction that befall the comfort of the house they call home.

Rejoice…
For the rumbling bellies that sing to the melody of the shaking earth that struggles to keep them stable.

Rejoice…
For the lips that call a silent call as the air becomes engulfed by the deafening tones of the relentless onslaught.

Rejoice…
For the ears that succumb to the unwavering symphony of a death dealing orchestra.

Rejoice…
For the hands, painted red, that dig through the concrete in hope of the touch of warmth – it’s cold.

Rejoice…
For the arms that carry the ever sleeping angels, in their eternal slumber, to the doors of their Creator.

Rejoice…
For the souls who will be held in the warmth of their sacrifice in the eternal gardens.

Rejoice… My dearest, for they now live while we now die.

Pursuit of Happiness

Happiness is…
A single, blooming flower before the bouquet is made.

Happiness is…
The lush, green rainforests before the bustling metropolis.

Happiness is…
The free-roaming cub before the Fashion Week catwalks.

Happiness is…
The fresh, clean air before the polluted, fuel-filled streets.

Happiness is…
The long-anticipated letters before the short, last minute text messages.

Happiness is…
The small, cosy homes before the large, empty mansions.

Happiness is….
The warm, safe embraces before the painful deceptions.

Happiness is…
The taste of a home-cooked meal before the huge fast-food chains.

Happiness is…
Spending time with family before we become too busy to even call.

Happiness isn’t…
The real destination.

Gas

~Gas~

 

 

People scatter and flee in fear

as sirens ring and buildings fall.

The whistling missiles, deafening screech

as limbs are scattered from wall to wall.

 

 

Laughter of children, now forgotten,

turned to screams from a panicked face,

for these are the sounds that surround our existence,

the unheard song of this hell-like place.

 

 

The demons, they near, with their acidic claws,

so we must flee to escape their grasp.

We’ll hide in here – so in we pile,

but then I sense it within my gasp.

 

 

I slam the door to this minuscule room

my crying baby within my embrace,

I look to my wife who is huddled in front,

my heart, it cracked, from the look on her face.

 

 

The phosphoric scent slips through the cracks,

I hold back the tears and take her hand.

Time is short as reality strikes,

an empty hourglass and its grains of sand.

 

 

My baby, now quiet, with shallow breathing,

stirs in discomfort and winces in pain.

Oh, how I would give my life, my child,

to never see you hurting again.

 

 

My eyes, now misty, look to my wife,

and I smile softly as our foreheads touch,

we had so much to do and so much to live,

“I want you to know that I love you so much.

 

 

Don’t cry, my beloved, for this is our fate,

in heaven I’ll meet you and get on one knee.

Your beauty, still blinding, will again take my heart,

and so I will pray that you’ll again marry me.

 

 

We’ve been abandoned, the World has grown silent,

our land, destroyed, and now left to burn,

but worry not, my beloved, because from God we came,

and now it is back to Him we return.

 

 

I love you.”

 

 

“I love … you… t…”

 

 

 

(By Naziyah Mahmood – a heartbroken last-encounter of a mother, father and their newborn child who were gassed to death a few days ago in Syria.)

 

---

Warning: Graphic Image.

“A Syrian family gassed today…

A mother, father and their newborn. No where to run, no where to hide, they lay there on the cold floor while they took their last breath.

This is the story of the struggle for freedom.”

– Photograph from Wipe The Tears

 

Please click the first link to see the image.

 

(I’m very sorry if this has upset or disturbed anyone as this was not my intent, but I’m posting this because it’s something that I believe the world does need more awareness about.

Unfortunately, I don’t think WordPress has the option for me to put a graphic warning on the image beforehand, however, I know that many might find this too much to bear. so I’ve added a link to it instead.

 

 

I understand that this is a very, very heavy topic, but the world needs to know.

I broke down in tears when I saw this image too, and I couldn’t believe that mankind is letting this senseless slaughter go on.

 

Most of all, my apology goes to my brothers and sisters who are suffering. I’m sorry that we haven’t been able to stop your suffering or do more… our hearts, tears and spirits cry for you.

I’m sorry…)

When the World Falls to Silence

When all the clouds have dissipated,
and the rivers have dried;
When all the mountains have crumbled,
and all the tears have been cried;
When the thunder has quietened,
and all the storms have been raged;
When all the animals are gone,
and the wars have been waged;
When all the flowers have wilted,
and the hearts have turned hard;
When all the trees have been cut,
and the Earth is left scarred;
When all kin become enemies,
and all friendships are torn;
When all the nations have fallen,
and there’s none left to mourn.
When the skies become darkened,
and the Sun fails to light;
When the lands become barren,
and there’s no life in sight;
When the last child has smiled,
and there’s no one left free;
When the World falls to silence,
Only then we will see;

That this culture of hate,
from the moment of birth;
It’s the deadliest of plagues,
to this gift you call Earth.

In this moment of reflection,
and this silent reverie;
I ask that you listen;
O’ Child, listen to me.

I am your mother, your father,
your being;
I am the template of life
you’ve been seeing.

I am the land that has
kept you sustained;
In your existence
I am deeply ingrained.

I am the breath,
that has lifted your lungs;
I am the song,
that nature has sung.

I am the sands
of your hourglass of fate;
So listen to me, now,
before it’s too late.

I am the soul of the Earth
that you know;
I am left wounded,
from the hate that you show.

There is still time,
to turns things around;
If you wish to survive,
on this one united ground.

Hasten, O’ Children,
with love, peace – just try;
We don’t have much time,
please don’t let me die.

I am the World…

Poem ©Naziyah Mahmood, 2016.
(Image source unknown)

Mama

The Thirteenth Hour

Haunting chimes of a music box
echo loud through enchanted time.
I stand, curious, before a towering mirror,
which casts no reflection of mine.

My hand slips forth to feels its coolness,
yet I gasp at the magic I see.
Fingertips, gone, I slip straight through
a portal of magical uncertainty.

In I am pulled, heart pounding in fear,
and yet I still long to know
the destination of this rippling void,
and where my journey will go.

I teeter forward, catching my step,
as my eyes behold the sight
of endless forests, valleys and lakes,
a realm created from light.

Swept off my feet, on the tracks of the breeze,
I glide on the wings of a bird,
Tasting the crispness of crackles of air,
listening to voices unheard.

Kingdoms so vast, and creatures so strange,
litter every inch of these lands.
Pillows of clouds made of glistening crystals
rain diamond drops into my hands.

A linear rainbow now guides my journey,
an explosion of colours so strong.
I happily hop along each chord,
to create my ethereal song.

I begin my descent, as light as a feather,
as I take in this realms allure.
My lungs intake a breath, so deep,
a taste so delicious and pure.

One leg extended, superposing ripples,
I stand on a mirror-like lake.
My reflection, she’s curious, as we both observe,
the movements that the other will make.

The blow of a horn, and I suddenly fall,
back through the mystical door.
For a moment so brief, our hands had met,
before separating, forever, once more.

I stumble forward, back into my room,
as I wonder about where I had been.
Is this reality, or the next part of that journey?
As the clock now strikes ’13’.

…Ding.

©Naziyah Mahmood 2015.
(Image taken from mrgoglass.com. Unfortunately I can’t locate the original source, but if you find it, let me know!)

Distant Echo

One deep breath; a sigh of escape,
I am stirred awake from my nightly slumber.
My drifting soul in the realm of limbo,
returns, cascading, to its worldly vessel.

My eyelids shift from their fleeting dream,
and gently part to greet celestial illumination.
The painted scene, a different canvas,
from the images that last danced before me.

A comforting silence, loud on my senses,
is disturbed by a whisper – a voice with no sound.
A memory from the future, déjà vu yet to happen,
echoes around me like a blanket of warmth.

A riddle with no answer, slowly fading from my being,
leaves behind the last brushstrokes of its existence.
I smile, I awaken, with a distant longing,
we will meet again, in that memory yet to come.

… Believe.

©Naziyah Mahmood 2015.

(Image taken from koalalalala.deviantart.com)

Call of the Clyde

The mists that veil your towering mountains, envelope my mind;
a mother’s embrace.
The colours that paint on your canvas of valleys, nourish my spirit;
prisms of light.

The winds that carry your tales and melodies, caress my heart;
enchanting whispers.
The rivers that write of your boundless strengths, fortify my will;
a shield of hope.

I hear your call, your beckoning voice, each day when I am afar;
my dearest.
I feel your pull, your ethereal touch, beseeching for my return;
“come home”.

Within me you shall always remain as a beacon of love, a compass;
my freedom.
To you, I belong, like a leaf from your branches, a child of the Clyde;
your flower.

Oh land of the brave… I am a warrior… your thistle.

Image and Poem © Naziyah Mahmood, 2014

Submerged – tanka

Drowning yet rising
              deepest stages of my dreams
   capturing each breath
                awaken to reality
                               salted tears kissing my face

 

 

Poem © Naziyah Mahmood, 2014
(Image taken from the very creative work at louisdyerartist.wordpress.com)

Whispers of the Sunrise

Deepest slumbers, gently nudged, by the softest voices of my travelling conscience;
“Awaken, my sweet, come to prayer, come to salvation”
The words rolling through the skies, over the hills of atonement.

Fading moon, rising sun, light kisses on their mutual passage through time;
“Cleanse your soul, illuminate your being, I am waiting”
A gap in the dawn, veiled by the radiance of His Majesty and Grace.

Silent struggle, standing tall, ascending towards self purification;
“Spiritual cleansing, physical ablution, absolved from worldly bounds”
An incandescent aura, emanating from every limb and every motion.

Open soul, intimate words, a liberation through prostration;
“Free yourself, share your tears, I am here”
An elevated state, reached through the humbling gestures of adoration.

Rising up, heart content, facing the day with a reinforced hope;
“I am with you, I have always been with you, and always will be”
Sweet whispers of the sunrise that ready me for my lifelong journey.

“…I am here”

© Naziyah Mahmood, 2014
(Image taken from road2jannah.com)

 

(It’s a bit late, but this is written as part of the Daily Post: Daily Prompt – New Dawn: How often do you get to (or have to) be awake for sunrise? Tell us about what happened the last time you were up so early (or late…).)