This Night-Bitten Dawn
This night-bitten dawn, a poet’s creation,
I read it in times of dark desperation.
Where genocide walks as a daily affair,
And even the wounded light gasps for air.
Faiz once wrote, in verses profound,
“This is not the dawn we longed to have found.”
It’s just the echo of hopes that fade,
A dream of freedom—slowly decayed.
When the heart hopes to see a friend once lost,
Where seashores bite like serpents off the coast.
The tyrants conspire to seal the people’s fate,
Each move conducted by the devil’s dictate.
Yet still, from ashes, the tulips rise,
Defying the dusk that clouds our skies.
For every chain that freedom has worn,
A dawn shall come—truly reborn.
