Between the fingers, it has been glidingly spilled
With the same ease with which it was earned.
Burning tears were violently wept
Lamenting the years that have been wasted.
In a chase of a running-away desire
That’d be vigorous and forbidden
As long as you are gifted.
Papers are scattered everywhere;
A diabolic overwhelming scene
Haunts a traumatic domain of an eternally
Lugubrious garden where the serious and the frivolous
Used to pay the fondest homage.
Dangling fruits of frustration serve the hungry
Though the angry's solace is groping for
The enamel of the shade of the trees of inertia.
Hustling lurid details of loss
Prevents languid fervent action to cross
Into bodies used to cross out
Any attempt to salvage the assuaging
Emotions of hopelessness from taking over the souls
Of the inept when handling their issues.
Years pass, days hurry wearisome
To an abode of false happiness
Where, at last, infelicitous festivities are held
For all those whose cumbersome lives are finally coupled
With the foolishness with which their tongues brattled.
The sun spills severe rays on humanity;
Typical punishment for the abusers.
Zenith of its fomenting heat
Treads mercilessly upon all
Lurking cunningly and luring
Nagging population whose popping
Negative action instigates the earth’s anger.
Tick tock, tick tock
The melody of the ticking clock
In the parlour coupled with the
Curious symphony of the grappling leaves like
Kittens starved to the verge of death.
The old lady’s black cat snarled and
Out of the luxurious warm parlour
Crossed to the dreary room upstairs which
Key for no reason disappears the same horrifying way it appears.
Ding dong, ding dong
Dawn was inhibited to approach the
Idyllic quarters of the ancestors’ ghosts
Nagging with time that deprived them of glorious
Grandour they used to enjoy when they were alive.
Demons of anger habitually intervene whenever the
Oracle attempts to put an end to their obstinate complaints.
Nursing their rage is the zealous devils’
Gift; their existence is guaranteed with that rift.
Tick tock, ding dong
A battle of sounds that never ends
Depriving the boy of brief moments of sleep.
Upheavals of the past and obstacles of the future
Tirelessly meet in the brooding moments each night.
Each day is pregnant with the agony of the
Previous dreary and wearisome night.
“Help, stop it,” shouts the innocent soul of the boy;
It pleads for a moment of quietness.
Frightening fear is delivered each morning
To devour the boy’s serene
Making him inwardly freak but outwardly
Far away from being that meek weak.
The moments end but the years drive fast along.
The everlasting night battles become
That mansions’ landmark song
Whose lyrics ward off all the inhabitants
Converting the mansion into a shrine of
The wild angry ghosts who roam the wild
And agglomerate whenever there is a sensitive child.
Theft
Forcibly taken,
Easily forsaken;
Once you’re broken;
Again, you won’t rise.
Liars turn life to a vice;
They love violence as a pet
And lure the innocent to a bottomless pit.
Leave, nothing has left;
Staying is an embrace of another theft.
Naeema Abdelgawad, Assistant Professor and Ex-Fulbrighter, the premise of her research is cross-cultural theories and translation studies. She is also a professional translator/interpreter and academically teaches them besides her literature courses. Furthermore, she is published scholar, fiction and nonfiction writer, critic, novelist, poet, short story writer and international peer-reviewer.
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