Poetry - An-Nuur Press Agency

IT IS GOING TO BE BETTER By Abdulrozaq Taslim

I once told a boy: “you cannot live here & not call yourself authentic.” At least one must live with

Lord, coming into this world is fire. Living in its labyrinth is mystery. Dying is to leave a book of

Never have I heard Of any mortal Without a story Attached to its carving. I have heard of mythical tales

Birds parade the sky with elegant flights, symbols of freedom and a healing to the crippled heart. The sprouting flower,

Everyone has stories to narrate. Some elegant, some ugly. For me, it is a story of war. Each page laced

I have eaten every tablet of endurance,Drunk every morsel of perseverance,Breathed every wrap of liveliness,Yet I have not uttered that

Father was a great man.I bless how he lived like a lion& transit in the most courageous style.Say death is

Let’s voice out a deafening glee!Let it soar to the firmament skin!From a battlefield, we have triumphed,a battlefield armoured with

Enjoying my busy sleep as I lay,Lay on my weary thatched bed—Oh, I mean a thatched mattress,Or maybe some cartons

Boom! Takoo!Smoke choked the lungs of the clouds;bullets dashed, fleshes ripped,crimson blood dripped & flawed the black tars on the