Fear is a call of whisper,
Blended with Halloween smile,
She bleached her tongue for the spark of the late night,
Hugging tight the silhouette of the graves,
Where skulls mount their tent,
And drink the smoke coming out of the termite’s cigarettes,
As they rule the tiny land in every tomb,
How can she fight the smoke,
If she can’t see thy light?
How can she live in those fumes caressing her nose,
If what she feels is blunt emptiness?
And how can she be the same fresh lil berries,
If she already lost herself to the coast,
In the middle of this pain,
God gave her a great deal
to see every ray of thy light,
That would stay beside her throughout her journey of life,
How can she thank God
For this lifetime blessing?
Just how, she asked her poor soul resting beneath the earth
MD Alhassan ft pen JMJ