

Bloodied RootsAs traits of the mother linger on in its offspring, so too did the children of Africa retain the features of their womb. The profound span of the Savannah, seeking to cover the length of their minds, would sprawl out in continuity as it sought to close in on their conscience’s ever-broadening horizons. Far more compact was the fire which pounded beneath their breast, ever ready to explode in a cataclysm of energy and ambition. Dotted within such a furnace were oases of tranquility and peace, passions cultivated with the slowest and most careful of touch. So fertile were the growing spirits of man that it was little surprise that much, even moBloodied Roots


Back to the RootsThe duty of the shepherd, the son, the husband, the warrior, and the king, can be no less a responsibility and no less an encumbrance then the duties of the sheep, the daughter, the wife, the protected, and the ruled. Such was what kept Shadiyah in this gilded cage of a life – not love nor desire, but bitter obligation and dread of any alternative. Duty as a mother, dusty as a waiting wife to a young Kurdish noble, to whom should have been the greatest inhabitant of her heart, but was more the incessant sun, seeking to forcibly unravel the slightest shroud of privacy in her twilight. She had hardened her heart to a shield’s strength and givenBack to the Roots


Eternity and HumanityThey were born of a single womb, in a single moment, from a single seed. Both of red skin and red blood, both of fleshy limbs and flawless form, yet different, as if seeds from two ends of the earth had come to sprout from the same soil. What child squalled and scampered in the midwife’s arms was hale and hearty, of generous size and even greater voice. Legs pumping rhythmically and tiny arms drifting in the cool midnight air, the midwife was quick to appease the desperate mother, who took the offspring to her bosom. Serenity glowed in graceful features drained of emotion and energy, the weary smile of which could have brightened the dimly liEternity and Humanity


LegacyLegacy An ElegyLegacy
No monuments of grandeur to mark his achievements. Like Egypt’s Pyramids, religion’s Jerusalem, or glory uttered on the tongue’s of men
Tombstones unadorned, unnoticed, But by vain nature, who shrouds the unsightly blemish
With heads in the cloudy sky Yet our towering neck and body below of earthly mountain We blow not the sun-soaked breeze of enlightenment To remove the covering cosmetics of our enigmatic world
Nay, to what purpose would we have? To dirty our hands in that primitive earth When the ‘answer’ is more easily found
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