I am still a stranger in your battlefield
My rifle on my shoulder, I do not mean to fight
My tears cutting the ground under your feet
You stand over my bleeding body
Your cold blade dripping your way out
You stab me, once and twice, you grin at my wounds
My blood meets the thirsty salty soil
They greet, they hug, they mate under your feet
They give birth to the wild bloody roses
Where every wound blooms once more
I hear your walk away, leaving my barren land
I pray for death to push the arrow deeper in my back
To take the last hopeless breath, the last breeze of love
Bury me where the old moon was born
Let my head rest in a land of cinnamon and honey
When the white hands arrive with their remedy
Tell them all my birds left me and flew north
I do not wish to heal, I do not pray for cure
Battered and broken, my heart left the shore
Author: Saida BUL.
I let my head on this pillow, everytime I sink
Where all the heavy thoughts rest and the heart sings
Between the world’s pain and my agony, there is a place.
I close the eyes, I breathe, I rise and I’m there again
I’m the same child again, chasing the summer breeze
Carrying all the colorful dreams on my shoulders
With eyes as big as the waves, and a heart where birds nest
There, where every butterfly takes colors from my palms
And the thirsty deers come drink from my spring
There where the world made sense.
I’m there, and the restless mind is home for peace
When you told me joy had features and a face, my face
I touch the sandy beach, and one heart is never enough
I eat from every daisy in the white field, I drink the morning dew
I cover my cold skin with sunlight and sunflowers petals.
Every now and then, I let my head sink, I let the world sink
I go back where I can hug the sky and walk on foamy clouds
Where I can be a little bird, that small daisy in a white field
There, where mercy is rain and the world makes sense.
Author: Saida BUL.