Wonder Woes Poem by Mohammed Hassan (Piracy In The Mediterranean)

Each man has to raise the desires within him,
To fight over something with a deformed friend
To Bring a new incubus to the lives of those
Who have never seen Misadventure's mastery

Wetted roads and tens of shattered lamps
Grey clouds with millions of rain drops
At an old window which has tiny cracks
And a swinging shade in the hangman's loop

But who is there, nothing but the cruel wind
Which moves the tight locks, trying to get in
As the coldish and the warm winds take turns
Searching for warmth in the shade's embrace

Bored by the ravens which have no place to go
But daring to fly, cawing to reach the skies
And the sands which intrude on its motion
Trying to defy by creaking to scar the eyes

From the tree of knowledge of
Good and evil and life's death
We can evolve that all of man kind
Spread out an obsolete truth

The imaginary Utopia, that no place
Shines inside the heart of the night
As the Dystopia hides in an attempt
Of getting well known to each other

-'I will befriend thee till the end of time',
-'Don't be, till thee find a way to your final silhouette'
-'With thee, I am me, a deformed anarchist,
And I'm aghast from all what you don't dare to say'
-'Don't be, for thee will be the deuteragonist,
But we hallucinate what descends from the other day'

In the absence of the sense of danger
Or the scent of eeriness as it should be,
The ultimate imagination will slowly age
As it silently fade away like those windows

Is it real, the one who trod a path,
Can tell the one who's at the start,
-'Just bring your mirror with you,
You're going to miss your old face'

While his howl starts to throb,
Sneers those who swallowed that trap,
Yet it is as sweet as honey
Caressing kisses on his white throat,

And the mischievous effluvium
Of his loathsome breath
Comes out and the scream is:
'These jaws will turn over you'

And the imaginary hollow tree
Will take the shape of humans
Waiting undead for the right time
For the cycle of putrefaction

That Devious Tragic Villain
Does not want to be born
Incessantly echo for another time
And that's what I name 'Perfection'

We are these cracks on every wall
And the varnish in every window
We only survive a short life
Then we all will fall to the ground

We are the howling of the wind
When it hit the sands on its way
But we are not like these skies
We cry when we feel we have to

Gaze long enough into yourself
And search where the wonders are
But you will never understand
Why and what we are built to be


February 16,2011,3: 08 AM