Slave Poem by Moahammad Maleki

he was drowned in the ocean of burned and dry leaves in the jungle of nothing in nowhere

when he got up he noticed a tattered and shabby shackle in distance

stood up in strive and the beads of sweat were pouring down out of his pallor face

like the drops of boiling water take a rest on the kettle lid and he was nowhere

getting closer to shelter of no door

he pushed the door in vein of hallucination

stroke pictures, within it he saw a beggar, bent on his knees and begging for the pardon, for forgiveness

as if committing a big sin he didn't know

and on the roof a rope of much thickness

dangling from it

and a big and abysmal grave, fit to his tallness

he remembered his mother was a doctor, delving into the hearts

but she was in nobody's heart

wearies and wearies overcast and wrapped around him

he fastened the rope round his neck


he was nobody's slave

he was free in nothing