Tarannum Ahmed

For years and years to come they will remember
The echoes of your tears in the quiet hours of the night,
I still grapple to escape.
The garden of blooms which were once your heart,
Now darkened in the smoke.

For years and years to come they will remember
Your dances across the fields as you plucked the fresh fruits,
I fail to forget the sweetness of.
The fireworks on year end which were once airstrikes,
Now disguised into celebration.

For years and years to come they will remember
The scent of soap off your skin,
A perfume I would bathe in if only I knew it were the last time.
The river that once symbolized peace,
Now lay as only a flow of ichor.

For years and years to come they will remember
The whispers from underneath the rubbles,
I cannot unhear.
A bond which once remained unscathed,
Now broken by death’s cruel hand.

For years and years to come they will remember
A mother’s desperation to feel the warmth of her infant,
Struggling to absorb it through your cold remains.
Tears that once never were to be seen,
Now well up in the depths of your nostalgic sea.

So while your spirit dances wild,
I hold my heavy heart wrapped in your memories-
Alongside my immortal love.
So while your spirit dances free,
I bury my haunted soul-
Alongside your carcass.

image credit: Motherhood by Malak Mattar @malakmattarart