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Poetry

The cub

 

By Reza Razavi
April 23, 2003
The Iranian

Wings as tired as the sun that needs to set
With a soul on fire and a shell sick with desire
As the sun begins to rest
A battle with the wind has just begun
As the last of the grey brotherhood soar
The dogs of war arrive for a visit
Though a shell left behind has now rotten
Their rations depleted for their visit is not without reason
A final battle with the brotherhood is all they seek
My grey ones are here to stay
Much spent in loving them with such hate
Only to discover that they are who I chose to be
Darkness of the phallic tower showed no mercy to the demons
That haunted the dreams of their cubs
My metamorphosis, commanded by stones
My death carried out by mountains
Yet a rebirth by the oceans
Tears of blood flooded the plains
Upon which they sailed their ships
Flies of iron I carried upon my wings
As I landed upon the terrace of the foe
I watched the carcasses of the ones who made me change
The cubs, now older, gathered around once more
They revered a messenger who arrived for a trade

Another journey toward the sun
Yet the nightfall is all that waits
The broken carcass of the cub in my arms
I embark upon the desperate task of giving it life
Ambiguity among the shadows of the clouds
Chased me through each turn and descent
The secret stayed unknown
Until one night...
As the cub parted the curtain of his eyes
And though the rise of the sun centuries away
Hope began to shine through those eyes
And the clouds became clement as never before
The ice upon my wings melted
And the stars gathered to view the rebirth
And the moon shown red in hopes of the arousal of the sun
As the graves told tales of mutiny
Many ships sailed the waves which washed them away
Stones and scriptures sank to the bottom of the seas
And once the oceans became aware of this betrayal they rebelled
Carcasses gained life once more, and they swam
With what little matter they had left
Loathsome approach of the crows of oblivion
Levitated retaliation of the iron flies
Alas the return of the sun
If only to witness and shine over the glory
With which I died and became the cub
As it grew and changed into me   

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