Five Narrating Strands Of Eyelashes Poem by Eiz Qarqash

In the desert, under the coloring rays of sun,
Her eyelashes narrated the story of the sour rum.
Five strands, not being able to count, symbolized a mare-night.
The first, silent devotion dedicated to God as a rite.
The second, forgotten souvenirs of a child who ran from a human earthquake.
The third, sobbing aloes, scattered around a martyr's wake.
The forth, burning twigs in a hoped hell for who unfolded annihilation.
The fifth, for them a craved damnation.

Her right eye was covered with her bangs.
Her lips were humming for the wandering rams.
An eye that witnessed the sovereign kings,
Would never see the golden gleam of rings.
Even if the dense lashes were brutally plucked,
And in a great fire were chucked.