The earth is mute.
The stone is shut.
The Bloodline declares.
Before the stone:
Your word was verdict.
Your touch was medicine.
Your gaze was shelter.
After the stone:
Quiet inherited you throne.
Emptiness put on your robe.
Nothing replied our hellos, our praise, our being, our becoming.
Now we wrestle twin thunder:
The echo of you-WITH-US...
and the echo of you-NOT-HERE.
The first echo sharpens the blade of the second.
The pain is raw. Putrid.
Stubborn as stone turned to steel.
This visible vacuum - hallowed, like marrow without bone,
unheld, yet it ran through every road you walked,
through every chest you warmed.
The earth is mute.
The stone is shut.
The vacuum roars.
The Bloodline remembers.
CEMALUK DYNASTY
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem