The Play

February 13, 2002 - 0:0
As my virgin wounds yawn in solitude

Silence slowly grows hatred

In the time's deserted womb

Go!

No one is born for my content

And you know the better

No wall is warm

Who cares?

The sun is still shining

And the mountains won't move

Even if you have the faith of an angel

A cup of philosophy

Two spoons of history

Little crumbs of thought

And an indigestion of belief and doubts

Life means: no! no! no! yes yes yes no!

I put my cross on the heap of time

It was red before I was on it

The wind won't hear you

The wind won't hear you

And the blue is deaf enough

To celebrate with it's light and thunders

The fire, is out The song, sang

What a bitter kiss!

Must I believe in shadows

And in the light of the hands

That will bless the world?

I'm simply standing on the last line of this page

Where are you reading from?

*Maryam Ala-Amjadi (Faryad)