Where are you?

Where are you?

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By Mohammad Tabish Once again night falls I haven’t slept for decades Don’t call it a nightmare I am already dead The stones I throw used to be my home once This hunger is no humor I have taken abode amidst yellow stones My voice froze trying to reach you No archangel fell to witness the holy in me I am no son of Abraham I am nothing but a slaughtered sheep This ought to be a sin I have no name Am I a bleeding prisoner beyond the interrogation gates Or a withered odorless flower? I am no more

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