I am boarding on the wrecked floor, in the only room of the shattered home, stuck in the darkness and clung to the sorrow. Sobbing, weeping, and listening to the music of my destiny. I am bowing my head down, perching on my wounded knees and my mother runs her splendorous palms over my hair to calm me out and let me ease, the rumbling sound emerges in the town and the only cabinet left in the kitchen ceases. The scent of cardamom merged with the odor of paper ink popping out of the balcony, seems like my father is enjoying his palatable tea. My displeased brother babbles and scurries towards me, he grabs out the piece of pancake I hid in the refrigerator, red and ravaged. I clasp my hands as another round of rumbles wraps around the building, my best friend holds my hands and hugs me tight, whispering that everything will be alright. All of a sudden the girl I love calls, she is coming over for the dinner with the pies, I hastily answer it but no one replies.
I am scared and alone in the wrecked room, I can feel the darkness, eating me thorough. The loud rumbling strikes the building nearby, I squeezed my eyes shut but the screams in the neighborhood can make their way inside, I don’t have a vibrancy to roll out of this tormented ride. The strikes have ended, the rumbles have gone, I waken from the sleep, woundless, perceiving the divine light. I can sense the freeness, I can feel the joy, it was diverse as it never happened since the day I lost my lifelines. My Best friend pitches in and holds my hand, he procures me up and walks me out. The huge table is placed full of the delightful feast, all the celestial faces are taking their seats. My mother greets me and runs her palms lovingly over my head. I see my brother smiling; I see the girl I love gleaming and tucking her hair behind. There is my father, sitting on his chair, gracious and pleased ‘You are free my son!’, he delightfully reveals.
From The River, To the Sea
Palestine Will Be Free
Palestine Will Be Free
