If only I could find my voice
Bereft of echoes and banshee screams
I would become another Hallaj
And shout out your name
From the roof tops
Of the ravaged Baghdad of my
Heart
I would lay no claims
To truth or divinity or even
To you. For no one can claim
You, it was made clear from the
Day Iblis himself rebelled
Against Allah and his creation
No one could ever claim you,
It was made clear
No poets, no philosphers,
No kinghts, no seers, no mendicants
Of cheap arts. They all sought to, but failed.
For who has tried kissing the fire,
And lived to tell the tale.
But rueful though the fate
Has been to the lovers of yore
I will try again, even though I know
My fate
Thirst would show on my lips
Like ages old parchment recording
Banal grocery lists of roman
Camps and heat would ravage my face
Like masks of wooden Norse gods
I will try again, even though I know
All I will shout in the end
Will be
‘Tobaiey Takseer
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