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  • Gita Assefi

    SongSoptok | 9/10/2014 |





    The plan of snow...

    Tonight again I witnessed the balls of snow
    silently flickering in the nights dark
    Tonight I remembered our home
    in the winters cold
    huddling under the same old blanket
    The spirits of still existing hope
    A family!!
    Tonight I smelled the frozen whiff
    of the white snow
    covering everywhere;
    but in silence and in ardour;
    regardless of the impending danger
    of the break;
    the crack, the sudden change of direction
    of the wheel of fortune
    and the sudden halt of everything
    we once had.
    And yet this snow
    keeps falling nicely bringing images
    of those unforgettable days
    tingling the ever-lasting open wounds
    we carry like a badge
    on our arms
    and someday this too will last
    but the snow would be falling
    for the next
    to remind what we once had...


    The face of Death...

    The delicate blue,
    born on a morning dew,
    face of dead,
    he already knew.
    A heart with such depth,
    like a journey
    to the deep sea blue.
    His mind
    an open map of the world;
    Alas!
    submerged in flue.
    And dead hadnt suited anyone more
    but him .
    There he was
    like a sculpture by Leonardo
     lying there inact.
    People were wearing black
    sitting in the pew
    befuddled at the tranquil expression
    shown on his face;
    and death showed its face
    in fact not in black
    but rosey and pink
    If we knew the fact
    would we still shudder
    in a made up cold!!!


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