Metamorphosis
by Somaya Hosseini artist name “Roya”, from Germany
Pain flows, and injustice still reigns.
Poetry and rhyme drenched in the sorrow of the homeland.
Life lies beneath the shadow of grief.
Sweet dreams...
When and where are they free from becoming?
Love blurred in foreign sleep.
Ah, what a bitter and wondrous dream.
Bread a simple longing.
A worry haunting each silent night in every home.
A lump in the throat, tears, silent sighs
like a daily morsel:
bitter in taste,
yet tangled with day and night... now routine.
The human soul
how long must it endure fear, greed, and suffocation?
Cannons, rifles, blood and martyrs...
traces of life on the soil of this estranged land.
People of this land...
how long will they remain exiled in their own nation?
How long will their voices vanish into the smoke of silence?
How long will their hearts beat within walls emptied of hope?
Hearts are shattered
not just by hunger,
but by silence,
by being forgotten,
by the world refusing to hear their cries.
A child, in a corner of the alley,
with a paper flower
on cracked earth
writes the name of the homeland.
A mother,
with eyes full of questions,
splits the bread in half
one for the child,
and one for a tomorrow that may never come.
The wind tells stories from the hills
of days when rifles
in the hands of playful youth
smelled of gunpowder not of dreams.
Yet in the heart of this darkness
there is light:
a hope
that blossoms in the smile of children,
that fills the silence of explosions with laughter.
One day,
rusted tanks will rest in museums,
telling tales of war’s end.
And people will share bread
with smiles not scars.
Afghanistan...
or nowhere
what difference does it make?
Borders, lines drawn on maps,
turned into clowns of sorrow and grief.
Soil is soil.
And Earth is my home.
And you and I,
like silkworms,
spun into cocoons by borderlines
with pain and silence,
yet awaiting the day we become butterflies.
Awaiting the day
when our flight
is colored in freedom
