When Noise Breaks Against Truth Poem by Yousif Ibrahim Abubaker Abdalla

I have had enough of people screaming at the top of their lungs of words that lose their meaning before they even reach us of noise pretending to be truth.

The Noise is no longer in control the Noise is no longer telling people what to do the Noise is no longer writing on pages with a pen of fear.

The people who used to shout loudly now sound empty in empty rooms.

For years people were told stories that were like seeds of smoke: about a land that was not being true to itself about people bending the truth like plants in a hidden wind about love for a city that was hurt and people were trying to show it on a fragile stage.

Then people started to see things clearly not by reading old books but by paying attention to what was happening around them by staying awake and looking at their screens by learning to ask questions.

Some people were called fire lovers but they were not really worshiping fire they were just trying to understand the past they were not hiding in the shadows they were just trying to find their way in the light.

The truth is not a path, it is a big sky where people can have different opinions and the truth is not something that can be locked up.

There is a nation that's not perfect but it is standing up for itself, it is holding its breath, it is trying to find a balance, in a region where borders are not stable and where people are being controlled by forces they cannot see.

What happens to a person when they are cornered
Nobody is speaking up for them?

What shape does a nation take
when even defending itself is seen as a crime?

The fire was burning
It did not turn to ashes, it just made people stronger.

And else people were speaking softly they were not shouting anymore they were folding up their banners and fear was quietly becoming part of what they were saying.

I have had enough of what happened yesterday when one person stood up against the Storm and a group of people came together with their teeth bared and their voices loud but that one person did not give up.

That person responded not with anger but with an reasonable voice and in that quiet moment the noise started to disappear.

I remember from that same land there was a person who loved language a person who took care of the grammar and made sure it was used correctly.

History is not owned by anyone, it is not divided into groups of people who agree or disagree.

The truth does not listen to the voice, it waits quietly and patiently until people are brave enough to see it for what it is.
This is just the beginning of what still needs to be said about the truth and Noise.