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Sameer Mehrab

Shadows on the wall

When the king is dead When the fire is lit When the skies are bloodshot red The clown will dance A dance of the dead Sowing seeds with as many hands Seeds from which only tomb stones grow     The clown will dance Till the skies are covered in dark …

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The children of Aleppo

  Death is no longer a horror Life is Life which is dragged around the streets of Aleppo Eyes wide open Half dead, half alive Half awake, half asleep   In times when hate is the only desire inhabiting hearts Men find themselves incapable of believing what fellow men are capable …

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The story of Master, Doctor, Shepherd and God

Master’s wife prepared breakfast for him: milk tea and parathas, a crispy oily bread. The smell of burning wood was mixed with the scent of parathas and milk tea, pleasing but at the same time had an annoying choking effect. She never said much but today she seemed to be struggling …

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Prisoners of darkness

In times my cell is darker than a womb but lack the warmth of it. It’s cold – soul-clenching cold.   I look at the vertical scratches on the blood-splattered walls, Reminder of the desperate attempts of my predecessors, To keep the track of days and nights, To confine their …

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Escape in numbness

I’m numb as wood And I can’t feel a thing No matter how much sex I have, Or drink like a fish, Or smoke like a Victorian chimney, I am numb and can’t feel the hatred or the indignity they want to inflict upon my soul. I was kicked in …

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