Poem- Awakening

This poem was an idea that came out for celebrating the Hijrah Day, previous years ago.

 ‘No, the knife can’t to cry,

Even the fruits turned red,

Showered by fresh blood,

Without any sense of pain.’

I stop recite the poem of old tale,

A legend of Yusuf and Zulaikha,

It is not only a narrative of passionate,

But it is a history to be learnt.

To be understood,

I open my own diary,

Beholding my past stories,

Sometimes I smile in cheery,

And for some reasons,

I frown in despair.

Reading my story,

Just same like orating that legend,

Zulaikha and women in her epoch,

Got attempted by Yusuf,

And I cut myself by an amusing world.

Yes,

A person who forget the history,

Would tend to repeat it,

Is it I’m been pulled inside it?

‘The heart of humbleness,

Beating hardly in her spirit,

Growing in empathy of true path,

Die together reliably.’

I recite again the last stanza,

Making me thinking and pondering,

Giving me chances to create a green life,

Because I know how to appreciate this sign...

Salam Hijrah.