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
for the sake of fragrance
but because we know
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
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.