Oct 30, 2013

POEM: Sincerely yours, from Syria

By Milaa Filza

To those whom have forgotten us,


Beaten, bruised, tear-drops falling down like rockets on the floor.
I can barely open my eyes, everything feels so sore.
I try to make a sound, hoping to be found. Just a second ago she was here.
Unimaginable was the hurt when I realized her soul was gone
and I only had Allah to depend upon.
Gone she is, way up high. Memories left, of a destroyed life.
Ummi, my dearest mother, how I miss the brightness that you used to radiate.
That brightness created an astonishing light.
Words cannot explain how that caused the hurt to disappear.
So many things we had to endure.
Countless days of pain, numberless falling tears. Seemed like a never-ending rain. 

We were driven away from our homes. Forced into the cold with nothing but a cup of hope.
I can’t remember much, but I can’t forget the words she said.
‘Don’t be shy, pick a spot, any place, anywhere, close your eyes and call it home.’
That’s what I did, every night.
I just closed my eyes and counted my tear-drops that were falling
on my so-called pillow until there were no more.
Those nights are graved into my memory; I fell asleep on that hard cold floor.
 But soon time will too fade these memories away
and only a vague image of my dearest will remain. 

So here I am, all alone.
I lost the ones I love, one second, one shot. Without them, hurts so much.
The thought of my loss makes me gasp for air, if you were in my ripped down shoes,
would you still not care?
Reality hits me every day, by my side there is no one left.
They took away my freedom, isn't that also some kind of theft? 

My deen is the only thing that keeps me up.
For thee, the thought of victory might seem impossible to reach but indeed,
I know that He only says to it ‘Be’ and it is!
So my Creator is whom I trust, for indeed, I know He will never leave me.
They think that I am scared, but they should know that I only fear the Most High
and only He decides when my time has come to die.
My goal is left undamaged, as I know this hurt will too fade away.
The mercy of my Lord is bound to stay. 

They may call me a fearless dreamer, soon to be shot in pieces
yet panic does not strike me at the very thought.
In fact, it is they for whom I feel, diagnosed with the worst disease.
The eyes are there yet they are blind. The ears are there yet they are deaf.
Blood is running through their veins yet they do not feel.
Cause indeed if they could truly see, hear and feel; they would be able to see with their hearts.
So now I have to ask you, whether the disease has gotten to you too, have you forgotten about us?

Any thoughts on this poem? Please post in the comments section below :)


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