Walking through the Fire

 

 

 

I still remember the place of your home that lies behind the land of sadness.

 

 

 

I still remember the place of your home that lies behind the blazing fire of suffering and pains.

 

 

 

Your home resides in the heart of the rosy smiling dawn.

 

 

 

The smiling dawn that is able to shake the deep foundation of the arrogant force.

 

 

 

The arrogant force of the tyrannical dark kingdom.

 

 

 

The kingdom of apocalyptic darkness that spreads its terrifying black clouds over the trembling face of the horizon.

 

 

 

The gloomy and pessimistic black kingdom that refuses to have any seat,

 

 

 

except for the Black Despair as its capital.

 

 

 

The black despair that spreads into our hearts like the shapes of the spider's web in broken glass.

 

 

 

The broken glass that becomes opaque with the smoke of sorrow,

 

 

 

and murky because of the tears of the bitter wintry rains.

 

 

 

I still remember the place of your home that lies behind the land of sadness.

 

 

 

I still remember the place of your home that lies behind the blazing fire of suffering and pains.

 

 

 

Your home resides in the heart of the unattainable dreams.

 

 

 

The unreachable dreams that lie behind the mountains of the human weakness.

 

 

 

The mountains of human weakness that constitute insurmountable barriers for all the feeble souls.

 

 

 

The feeble souls that become disheartened when they forget the place of your home.

 

 

 

The place of your home which resides in the pulse of all the daring hearts.

 

 

 

The unflinching hearts that are still willing to traverse the land of sadness, 

 

 

 

because they still remember the place of your home.

 

 

 

The place of your home that always lies behind the blazing fire of suffering and pains.