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Poetry

Thorn-filled garden

 

Ali Zandi
September 23, 2004
iranian.com

My thoughts are seeds that I hope to grow
In this world where soldiers fight, yet the king is the hero
But who am I to judge
All the hate, bloodshed, unjustice, and carnage
Ripping through our lives, leaving us with hearts full of hurt
Hearts that turn hostile, as we all must grow through dirt
Walking barefoot in this thorn-filled garden
Virtues unseen, honesty stolen, morality hidden
No flowers to rejoice the beloved smell
Heaven an illusion, I want to wash my hands of this hell
Once in a blue moon a flower appears
But one finds many insects near
And hardly spring arrives with one flower
While lack of rain has the flower sucking the life from the ground deeper
No Freedom, just running and fighting to stay alive
No life, No happines, just waiting for the bitter end to arrive
Because everything must return to the garden for new growth to begin

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