Nostrils of a monster

A Poem

By Junaid Ashraf

You love to smile and laugh but

The thousands of wounds

on our bodies

will not kill us.  

We know how to grow flowers there

not alone

for the sake of fragrance

but because we know

how poisonous

this fragrance is

for the nostrils of a monster.

You love to dance in joy.

The wine of power

is too heavy for your eyes

To see

That we are not caught

in the whirlpool of meaninglessness

We are not floating

in the pastures of eternal death

We are collecting the broken of pieces of courage,

Stitching the tattered flags of hope.

Like the weaving the rosary beads of tears,

gathering our last storm for you.