Abu Aeesh

The Unskippable Scene

Like everybody else, I didn't want to see the crime scene

Although there wasn't a pool of blood but it spoke crimson

And our fear to look spoke volumes about why our eyes went bleak

And the colours suddenly do not fit


To look means to see Love outline without art

And they were no yellow tapes in the scene of the crime 

And so in disarray, the flickered light dance 

Ingrained, was the lullaby marauding peace

For a moment, we felt sad, but that is all we did

Our eyes discern; decoding that which is right in front of us

That is why knowing is realizing

A mirror is still filled with reflection even when broken 

You either choose to ready your pen 

Or to look away

But then silence is consent 


The judge, jury and executioner are convinced we are guilty

And that rigor mortis is upon us because we are the dead body in the crime scene

It takes courage to look again 

To see the bottles we filled with broken promises

Of body and soul we left to fall unfortified

To look again and see the chance to try and race the raindrops

And afterwards come alive once more 

Because raindrops don't really fall and die

Raindrops, by the will of the

Most Merciful give life


To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.