A white dove, 

A crimson sky— 

Leaders and rulers embrace, 

But...!

Somewhere far away... 

A mother presses her forehead 

Against the cold marble slab of a memorial, 

Standing there like a question. 

And elsewhere, 

Last spring’s bride 

Now counts the omens at the door, 

Tying knots in the corners of her scarf, 

Whispering prayers— 

٭”If only this door, too, could be a miracle...”٭  

She runs to the knock, 

Faster than the wind, 

Beyond fear itself— 

Only to find 

Nothing but

His cloths, 

Wrapped in flags, 

Dusted in gunpowder. 

What do we know of whose politics these are? 

But... 

We are witness

to

Who paid the price.

Beneath the Biasaran’s whispered shade,  
The bride and groom their vows displayed.  
The hills stood witness, soft and bright,  
As love took flight in morning’s light.  

But shadows lurked in forest deep,  
Where beasts in hate lay still, asleep—  
Till thunder cracked, a shot, a cry,  
And crimson stained the azure sky.  

She turned, her heart a fleeting dove,  
And saw her fallen soldier’s love.  
The hunter grinned with bloodied stare,  
While angels wept in hollow air.  
She wandered wild, her voice a wail,  
Her tears like rubies, sharp and pale.  
The heavens donned a scarlet shroud—  
For love lay lost beneath the cloud.  
And still the winds through valleys moan,  
A bride’s lament, a love undone.  
The sky, once blue, now bleeds above—  
For earth has slain its purest love.

Who taught you to dissolve your shadows being.

To let the sea’s salt hymn 

Knead your fractures into pearl— 

A luminous echo of the deep’s quiet storm? 

From what heavenly voice did you borrow the courage 

To exhale your final sigh into the sun’s newborn arms, 

Its fingers gilding your edges, 

As though light alone could unknot your name? 

Does the sun cradle a heart, molten and wild, 

Where your breath still hums in its furnace of hours— 

Or did you slip through the cracks of its blazing hymn, 

A wisp of smoke in the throat of the sky? 

Tell me: does the dawn remember your silhouette, 

Or did you scatter yourself in its gold, 

A soul unbound, dissolving like a scent in the air  

Into the horizon’s unblinking eye....

Rehana Shajar

Patience has turned away, return the solace of my heart,  
Ignite the fire of   my love, let no calamity depart.  
An age has passed, bearing wounds upon my chest,  
Another age I need, to sing the pain, to  count the scars, to  find rest.  
My madness has wandered again through the lanes of dreams,  
My thoughts, adrift, remain in some distant city’s streams.  
Your pride, O my life, will one day fade and decay,  
Only then will the flowers bloom upon my grave’s array.
O my beloved, you’ll regret one day,  
Till then, my grave shall bloom where flowers lay.