Not your first journey

As you return monsters await to reverse pen put to paper

Rostam has been slain, celebrate they roar

The vast distance from here to your soul

Echoing the roaring of monsters seeking you
taught no hope with roars

no Trembling Rostam with you o’ soul, hollow

set the horizon ablaze with your love, extinguish your hope with your tongue, roaring monster coming to defend

roaring monsters steal breath

for in between stood a mirage of love

boundless roaring of monsters

echoing, near

roaring of pain was a prison so huge, grounding your bones into sprinkles of submission

from shame of impotence, roaring of monsters leading mirth drinking on the corpse of freedom

Erudite

in the art of suffering of many

Beast is here to defend wheels grounding bones of love, passion, freedom, hope

Taslim . . . taslim . . .here, here, here

Soon,

you will have hoards of roaring monsters screaming from the depths of hell

Reaching for your throat squeezing, screaming, slashing

freedom from your lungs

Soon,

you will have hoards of roaring monsters spewing words of “empowerment for women”

Reaching for your throat to squeezing, screaming, slashing

freedom from your lips

Soon,

you will have hoards of monsters roaring to cut you to pieces, dragging and ripping your body apart claiming “Allah Akar.”

Reaching for your throat to squeezing, screaming, slashing

freedom from your eyes

Soon, you will have hoards of monsters with fangs out to pluck your eyes to pour freedom of Taslim in those sockets.

Reaching for your throat to squeezing, screaming, slashing

freedom from your face

Soon,

you will have hoards of monsters stealing the memories of love, passion, freedom, family from those empty sockets.

Reaching for your throat to squeezing, screaming, slashing

freedom from your tongue

Soon,

you will have hoards of monsters coming to defend Taslim with peace, freedom and love, as they pour hot molten love in your veins.

Reaching for your throat to squeezing, screaming, slashing

freedom from your hands

Soon,

you will have hoards of roaring monsters, pulling, smiling, screaming, pulling, reciting the devil’s sirens, pulling the rope around your neck, until the red leaves your lips.

Reaching for your throat to squeezing, screaming, slashing

freedom from your feet

Soon, you will have hoards of monsters, smelling your breath, smelling your eyes, smelling your lips, squeeze every word of love, mute

Soon,

you will have hoards of monsters, burying memories, love for life, love for the piece of earth you till, path your mother took to fetch water, bread, her gardens

burying your father’s tears, his hands, cutting his tongue uttering - I forgive you for you know not

STIRRING dissolve HUMANITY

They are here, they are here . . .

Taslim . . . taslim . . . Taslim . . . taslim . . .