Lone By The Night(Reality Isn'T Alive) Poem by Mohammed Balchi

We were heading, nearly approaching back
When my sturdy, vehement rock tumbled down
We were heading, nearly approaching back
When my feeble, sensitive shell tumbled down

Told my sister, come and help but what a “no reply”
Told my brother, come and help but what a “no reply”
Am I meeting you on our deadline?
Brother and sister don’t leave me only a picture

Where did I land, on the ground you landed on?
I’ll be a branchless tree, for you were my branches
You were my beacon, warning me all the time
But it’s switched, everything crashed on my branches

Came to me when my flowers were blooming
Your brother is not yours neither your sister
You are not ours neither we are yours
You don’t belong, not from our belongings

Who was I to you?
Your bell-boy not more than that
You belittled me from all that time
And now I’m whose can you tell?

Who were you when you gave me life?
Who were you when you fed me from your milk?
Who were you when you brought my needs?
Who were you, who were you?

Who was I to you when you read my stories?
Who was I to you when you celebrated my day?
Who was I to you when you cared for when I got sick?
Who was I, who was I?

Why did you tell me you could have left it as a secret?
You want to cave your head held high that is what you want?
Why did you bring me with you?
You could have left me die

Now you feel a bit of repentance
But it’s too late for that
You could have fed me with bad milk
And say after my death that it was my fate

The tree fell down
And all that was left was the branches
You were all that was left
But I’m the one for you took the blame

Revenge would stay a half part of my heart
The other one was for you
I held you all that time
But now you have to go-on yourself

I’m just wood, nothing more
You could have recycled me?
Then you misplace a word
After that throw me in your trash bin

You could have recycled me?
You could have used my other blank side
You could have erased your misplacing word
But you didn’t you decided to throw me

Now I’m heading, nearly approaching to the furnace
To burn me and take my soul
And ash would be my remain
This is for your ill-treatment I’ll be

The sun rose on my face
Off getting out of what was flowing in my mind
My cheeks for the sun are getting red and warm
What I lived in my mind thought it was real