War Of Her Poem by Sarun Stani

Hey woman, arise from your ashes...
You have been nailed and hammered.
Your sprits and pride, he has
Burnt and thrown deep to the hell.

You are a mother and a wife
I know.
But not more than it.

You are the ruler of your kitchen
I know.
But not more than it.

you are the quench of his thirst
I know.
But not more than it.

You more than anything
I know
Are the drum of his stick.

They are nearer and dearer to god
they say.
And your spirits, your thirst
Buried deep to your home
away from the mosque.

Your feet weaker
I think.
For you are never compelled
To climp the temple on the hill
And the steps of he altar.

Your mnd is popping up
I know.
Ready to explode, like
The head of a kitchenmatch.

Storm clouds are gathering.
The wind is gonna blow and the
Rain that quenches your thirst is not far.

Sharpen your senses;
Toughen your will,
Hold your dreams tight
And fight for yourselves.
For your freedom and pride.
Its high time, but not over.
Give your spirits, cleanse and undivided.
Hey women, arise from your ashes.....