by Rida Khawaja
Art by Catherine Hwu
Issue: Paracosm (Winter 2017)
the ravens cries out under violet skies, undone
by a teardrop on the face of the unsung
as the morning glories hum refrains proven untruthful
the moon arises with wings unreal
the masses grasp velvety trees unchained
yet still can’t cry out their beloved lord’s name, forever unable
the hummingbirds vanish into the Sun unable
to understand why the roses of truth were undone
when they were torn, uprooted from the earth unchained
mourning for those whose voices were unsung
standing in hollow streets unreal
filled with the shadows, ghosts with whispers untruthful
the dove’s fairytale now sorrowfully untruthful
the reflections of memories unable
to find their way back home become beings unreal
the silk ribbons in her waterfall hair, undone
the truth, O glorious truth still unsung
O why do the masses still stand broken despite being unchained?
the phoenix explodes from the funeral pyre unchained
with nothing but a melodious voice, yet untruthful
floats above our heads, it’s voice always heard, never unsung
the masses laugh as the phoenix is engulfed by flames unable
to fly, its sweet milky eyes undone
by something in ardent symphonies, something unreal
the masses never free, stand broken, with no voice
forever making the same mistakes
suffering, like the dove whose memories are lost
with nothing but the truth the masses created for her
more like the lies…
the masses laugh at the Phoenix with scorn,
pitying it’s never ending beginning
little do they know they too are trapped
making the same mistakes of hate and war
over and over again
