Mirage Poem by Za7ra Sulaiman
Mirage
and god,
it made you so sad, didn't it?
to watch a good thing waste—
to see it rot
slow,
soft,
inevitable.
to feel it crumble between your fingers,
like art turned to sand,
like something sacred
dying quietly.
and then the wind—
how easily it took it.
like it never existed.
like we
never
existed.
was it ever art?
or just
a mirage
you begged
to be real?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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3/15/2026 11:11:01 AM # 1.0.0
