Ashes to ashes dust to dust .
A life .
a story.
is to be buried.
He died on the 1st, and was buried on the 5th;
an addict, a husband, and a father of 3.
Tragic, and dramatic; yet a blessing.
Time is paused, by life's forces.
Flashing picturesque moments;
4 months alone in space I’ve been.
An ex-heroin, and an Arabian widow.
possessing
smoke, as my companion,
and T.V., as my safe haven.
No job to support,
and no money to feed.
Music is played,
the story is whispered.
as a desert woman seen as a mirage by all our travelers.
I am the Arab woman that all nations haven't heard off
voices of my life have been crumbled, And swept away with thrashes of vocals.
As tears drop into my dry mapped hands thirsty for will.
Nations read and watch what is to become of me.
Traditions have covered me with drapes of layered fabric
forcing my body to stand side by side with my shadow,
all of this hands me support for my Shelter; I am the desert woman is who I am.
As I walk through the deserts dunes
The Sun welds me to grains of Sand.
And Winds Charge into my existence
carving my terrains, leaving me frail, yet ripe
rooted deep into the ground. I am the desert woman, see me thrive I say.
As palm trees give shelter to feed I too have become as thee
forced to take a path I do not desire.
Walking through vast fields of gold as far as the eyes could hold, I am the desert woman
screaming into the desert's core, hoping to hear echoes reflect deep into hearts.
As night falls
deserts claim their feasts.
I am taken,
I am owned,
marked with black borders into my eyes.
I wash my eyes from sands cutting passed my thoughts.
Night offers a slither of salvation thinning out my mind.
And I say I am the desert female;
rooted and bordered.
My Land has taken my life.
Now I must say I Stand today before you as the desert woman that is whole.
Not to be judged or condemned,
but rather to admire for my strength.
" THE END. “