~the Build Up Of Dreams Poem by Mishaal Javed

If I could watch that blazing flame,
Ever flickering and licking those malicious lips.
See the soft sand, quiet and tame,
listening to the secrets on which nations were built.

If only If I could sit with those old and wise
Their knowledge beyond what people know know
Watching the perfect play that is lies
Through glass eyes that see it all
The fall
Of the empire, the secrets in the souks
If I could hear the wondering wind whisper forgotten tales of souls past on
And listen to the monsters that destroyed those souls
The weak and the fragile, the ones now gone.

If I could clink silver goblets with the mighty men
and share a secret smile with Socrates
If I could witness the eloquence of Rumi's poetry
And see the sea of blood and gore
Where fate was changed and altered
-Forever.

If I could dance to the beat of a different drum
And sing a song to a different beat
If I could beat a different drum
My eyes would be open
-Forever.

If I could witness the slaves building the structures
as sticky sweat trickles down their bare backs
Not knowing their work will be admired for centuries
If I could laugh amid nervous excitement with the jesters
And witness the beautiful drama untangle
In the Cradle of Civilization on a blue day

Talk to the walls, their stories are many
God knows what they have seen and heard...
Talk to the tress, they know many more
And watch the slyness of snakes in deceptive human flaw.
Because bloodshed becomes work
through the eyes of a horse in a war
And stars the ceiling for travelers at night.

And although my footsteps will always remain covered
Blanketed by the ever falling, soft, silent snow
If I could even smell the path walked on by the most beloved
My eyes would be open
~Forever