All The Roads Are Blind

by. Dr. Aysha Al-Busmait

A discussion flowing around the tables

But who would direct it

And a devastated people

Dragging desolation like a sail

Whose anchorage is confusion

We have left for them all wounds

And went to count the dead

Under daylight

To get accustomed to the shape of defeat

Speech can no longer shed any light

Nor can silence

Their footpaths are made of thorns

Crossing a small dream

That is a night companion

Of those who dreamt of peace

But came only the Diaspora

And the heat of bullets

On every door

Registering a tale

They traverse wherever they wish

Like a wind that disperses us to exile

The world reels under our feet

Wherever we go is destruction

Which terrifies the heart

And leaves us

Lost in pitch darkness

Where all roads are blind.

 



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