Wednesday, March 11, 2026

The morning the sun didn’t rise















rivers of fire
"guided missiles, misguided men"
the morning the sun didn't rise

where do the birds fly to

where do the cats hide

in the city where

blood stained alleys

dissolve in acid rain


can the burnt trees still blossom

can this shattered season still change

will this sacrificed year ever end


caught between hell and under

fire on one side

bullets on the other


my father’s voice

coming through with static noise

is a chilling reminder

of the shortest conversations

during a different war

in a small phone booth


my selfless mother

I understand why you stay

I respect your decision

I envy your strength

and your kindness in crisis

I wish I had your courage


but here I am

drowning in worry

I come up for breaths 

every now and then

before the heaviness of my thoughts

pulls me under


No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.