Death’s Door
The time for death is near,
Near the hearth of family,
Family, whose the sole perpetrator,
Perpetrator of unconditional love.
Love, that’s the ravager of loneliness,
Loneliness that drives despair,
Despair, that’s the cultivator
Cultivator of dispossessed souls,
Souls that needed love, received brutality.
Brutality that’s emotional and physical,
Physical breaks that takes ages,
Ages to mend, but never overcome,
Overcome completely the degradation,
Degradation of Death’s door that opens
Opens for all aggressors who’ve torn,
Torn away at your confidence.
Confidence that you rip out of their palms,
Palms that are covered in blood,
Blood of the innocent who survived,
Survived hell on earth and won,
Won the war over death’s door.
©️Malak kalmoni chehab ©️
Perfectly Flawed poetry for change, my book is on the finalist list for the Canadian Book Club Awards.
https://www.amazon.ca/Perfectly-Flawed-poetry-Malak-Kalmoni/dp/1525582518
Poetry for Change 