Poem: The Honorable Fight

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2019-04-15T13:48:26+05:00 Waqas Rabbani
I built with my calloused, idle hands

a legacy of misery and pain

molecules of memory, lovingly

vibrating in my tortured brain

my civilization seems to be failing

and I’m lost somewhere in smoke

my buzzing mind is not slowing

even past the midnight stroke

still awake at 2 am in the morning

lighting my cigarette to stare

at the dimming of the lights

in the night sky everywhere

even the stars are fading

what hell has come to pass

life extinguished like candles

how long will this farce last

us all idle buzzing ants

insignificantly going about our ways

while the horizons silently whispering

through dying trees, the end of days

all I have is my words, no more

to stave off the unrelenting tide

blood on the streets, fires and wars

there is no place where we can hide

the end is coming my friends and foes

let’s all join our hands and pray

to all the gods we know and don’t

to save us from our ways
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