Sing out the pain of your heart woven in a soul-stirring Elegy. An elegy is a mournful, melancholic or plaintive poem, usually associated with a funeral song or a lament for the dead. Popular Elegies have often expressed three stages of loss. First is a lament, portraying grief and sorrow, then praise and admiration of the idealized dead, and finally consolation and solace. Soak your heart in memories as you float from one Elegy to the other.
My heart bleeds, just as my tear-soaked eyes, and anguish-filled-mouth keep asking: why Syria – the Levant – the rising land Why Damascus – the City of Jasmine of shrubs and vines, now turn to vineyard of locoweed and poison
I saw the coffin of my daughter leave, Ashen faced and pale darkened lips, Her heart was dead and body cold, Listless she moved out of my threshold to horizons unseen. Turn back she would not, nor weep her doe
Silver-green feathers of foxtails, nodding lazily through rusted wire fences, The orange-gold chalice of a single poppy in a sea of tender grass, Meandering sidewalks—charcoal-gray ribbons of asphalt, fractured by weedy cracks— Palm trees and fir trees and the spreading
Thou art, of truth, a foe Woe betide thee, oh snow Once thy fall shall thaw, Thou shall stand in awe. When open wide, thy mouth agape, In the sun, dyed, thy drape. When, dripping down, comes the rain, Thou,
My mind is flooded and his brain is blooded. schooled to just Google the truth about the youth and the proof about the loot. The crimes of the times but we were not schooled for the crimes of the heart.
My friend My lifetime friend You are now at peace. You’ve stumbled through dark tunnels. You’ve travelled, long, and hard. Now time has passed your journey’s at its end. Your pain still edged on my heart and soul and friendship,
Dismantled by your dance of the dead, that disfigured dialect. Assurance in our arrangement is altered. Why conjure this apparition? While I am solely safe, sent softly? Sweet sorrow summons spirit. Fabricated bliss felt; her familiar face Flown to my
To all courageous lives ended with sword, cannon or bullets of lead. To all Brothers… No longer our enemies instead… For Power and Ambition even Friends will part. To silent fallen Heroes always true to a loyal heart. To Courage
O, ye grave digger what do you dig? Grave for a flower of heaven, who dropeth on earth With tears , smiles and gurgle Goeth unscathed , unhurt and untouched. O, ye grave digger what do you dig now? Sepulchre
We are not mere sepals, petals, and pollen-grains As scientists view us under their microscopes, But a flower, with all faculties of beauty and life, A full bloomed blossom, the expectations and fulfillment, The long cherished dreams of a plant
Like a picture postcard from a city, A city frozen in another time. Living its own distorted reality, On the mantel piece of the sky line. The old building – a marooned ark, Amidst that ocean of newness. Currents that
Dark clouds fill the sky– ashen wind brings empty rain to my roof. My fingers lie calm! her fragrance floats into nothingness….., The woodpecker takes me deep to the forest, her past year breeze echoes gently in hills, And, like
Heady times and nearing dusk, A day as any other, As sudden as a storm at sea My beloved is taken! Gone! ……drawn from me with no warning. My world lies desolate and shaken, Consumed by a catastrophe, A world already