Hopelessly Hopeful

Contemplating the pain,
I felt the pain hurt,
as a burning thorn,
as an infuriated rose.

Wanting to dulcify the injury
with the honey of my soul,
bitter salty rivers
of tears sprouting out.

The scavenging terror
had eaten from my womb,
that was always immense,
always eternal.

I have felt the others pain
fluttering with anguish,
asking to the sky Mercy! , Have
Not found what he looks for? .

On the bloody Meadows,
flies the angel of madness
drinking of your breath
feeding from your dwelling.

I Feel your pain
stabbing, with out stopping
I feel it in the air
deep fear,

I have drunk from the bitterness,
I have tasted your rudeness,
I ate my sadness,
and give you my caress.

Rest on my blossom
drink from my soul,
there is abundance
respite, solace

Take refugee in my soft veil
cover your open wound
I am the flower's honey
waiting for the bee

Jun 22,2010

Being peace activist and having witnessed the worse atrocities of war. I put myself as the Land, this beautiful Palestine that it has been terrorized, destroyed by the enemies of Mother Earth.
I live thru Skype with my friends in Palestine the everyday life of an occupied land. Listening the stories of friends killed resisting, killed trying to reach their agricultural lands.
I wrote this poem in pain, trying to explain with words, with my poem the pain of my brothers Palestinians, the pain of the Land being ravaged every day by the madness of an unwelcome violence.
Every word is painted with blood, but also I feel the love of the land, this Palestinian Land that have protected Palestinians with the love of a Mother. Receiving their blood with love, with patience.
This is the Land softly speaking to their sons and daughters, that they are together in this journey of pain. As one body, just separated by birth and reunited by death.
AT the end, they will go back to the land that saw them grow.
This is a Poem of Pain and Love born of pain and love.
Written by blood, dulcified by salty tears. Ironic!
I want to express my sorrow, to give hopes, but I feel broken, exhausted of seeing so much blood spilled.
Long Live Free Palestine, these four words exalt the spirit and inflict new hopes, for a new dawn.: '(I cry as I write the poem, the story but I :) for there is always tomorrow.
Asif Andalib 27 November 2012

Beautiful write. Thanks for the notes

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