The Horror Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

The horror

Sheets of ice on ground
On the cars and edges
Of trees, balconies
Everywhere

If they fall?
We slide?

Each of our footsteps
Wolf‘s howl; fearsome.

But he used a shovel
Lifted part and the rest
Then removed like snow.

No one can remove voice
That rang in my phone
To pierce my ear
He was a Syrian:
"My name is Mohammad, "
Wanted job; he cried.

I could see through feel
The darkness around him.

No place to return
Not able to adjust
Shattered is his pride.

Ice melts with the heat
Dance falling in breeze.

In darkness I hear
Is horror; do we see?