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Prince Tardeh Poem
The sleeping sky is cloudy
And creates a veil over the lying minds.
Like a festival, the cemetery is alluded,
And turns to a hunting ground.
Open Graves and pits -
They lived.
Crowd of faces in their shades,
To amaze those preys.
Reefs and sheets they laid
On the unseen skins of the deceased
To commemorate their ways,
In spite of the deaths unperceived.
Decorating - they decorate the undecorated,
Whose lives cannot be consecrated.
The clock ticks, and time's fastened
In memories imprisoned.
Candles that could not light
Their lives any longer,
Cries that won't see them in tight;
Yet, they restitute their hunger.
They, lying there wished to smile,
But are thousand miles -
Though sighed at the benevolent pride,
But embraced their newest mild.
© Prince Tardeh
Copyright © Prince Tardeh | Year Posted 2020
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Details |
Prince Tardeh Poem
My body’s wrapped in the vastness of poetry.
Like a prisoner, locked in a dungeon of hope.
Crawling through a poetic infantry
With a feeling my heart could never let elope.
My eyes were closed in sleep
Until this feeling got revealed.
It opened and I felt poetry so deep,
Dangling at the hidden figures that I marveled.
I laid my hand on my skin - so thin;
Like a mirror, I got the poetic glance.
Honestly, nothing could be seen
Except those words that embraced my pen with dance.
Inside me is a thought that could unsex a nation and seal due diligence.
Inside my veins are disobedient racist sages
Willing to end segregations' races.
Inside me are lines that can travel longer distances
And show the world success's instances.
Inside me are lines that can cure wounded souls
And lead them to healing doors.
No time to give up; my pen is bleeding.
Enough of energy is still needed to get this revolution speeding.
It’s time to rise and get poetry on the globe,
Decoding our memories in divers of hope.
©? Prince Tardeh
Copyright © Prince Tardeh | Year Posted 2020
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