Dedication Poem by Issam Aladdin

if the future of funerals had a sound, this is it
not a melody I'm playing but an eulogy
for the dead that live and the alive that die

its that heightened sense again
a monochromatic feeling of avoidance
its that demon of our own design

where`s the soul that was a paint stroke
but later a masterpiece
where`s that light that i cant find

quite a silent moment
cheeks flexing, eyes frowning
but it`s all intact

open please those gates for me
open please those gates for me