عذراً

إلى كل أم ثكلى على ولدها...عذراً
إلى كل أب كان يدعوا ليلاً نهاراً أن يرزقه الله طول العمر حتى يرى فلذة كبده أفضل منه...عذراً

إلى كل شاب كان من مات هو أخوه و سنده...عذراً

إلى كل فتاه كانت ترى فيمن رحل زوجاً لها و أب لأولادها...عذراً

إلى كل من نادى بضرورة هدم النظام السابق و إقتلاعه من جذوره و لم أصدق على قوله...عذراً

إلى كل شاب ضحى بحياته من أجل أن نستيقظ كل يوم و نستنشق نسمات الحريه و لم ألقي لمصرعه بالاً...عذراً

إلى كل من تعامل مع ما يحدث على أنه همجية شعب لم يألف الحريه و الديمقراطيه...عذراً

إلى كل من تسول له نفسه تخوين من ضحى و لو بوقته في سبيل مستقبل أفضل لهذا البلد...عذراً

إلى كل من تعامل مع 72 جثه على أنه رقم قابل للزياده أو النقصان...عذراً

إلى كل دول العالم التي تتغنى بحقوق و كرامة الإنسان...عذراً

هذه بلدى..و هؤلاء إخوتي...و تلك كرامتي...

و في سبيل ما نؤمن به، نبذل الغالي و الرخيص، إلى أن يفصل بيننا حَكمٌ عَدْل لا تخفى عليه خافيه فى الأرض ولا فى السماء.

طفح الكيل و فاض، زهقت الأرواح و أستباحت الحرمات.

Despair

The sky bled that day...
A shadow, as of Death, fell with all its sickening calm..
shattered blades.. bloody ones.. half buried in corpses..
Torn banners.. others intact..
The stench... it rose above all.. as if hovering.. in pursuit of his nostrils.. only his..
... no one else's..
whether he stood or crouched.. it found him..
we had pushed them back..
back into those pits of oblivion from whence they came..
yet they left a trace...
"to the victor goes the spoils".. a fine saying..
yet... who is the acclaimed victor?
I... I.... Nay I...
we stood united till the very end...
and WE were victorious...
we were left with the stench... the spoils...
the DECAY..
they had corrupted our minds..
they dug deep into our souls....
and that is were they left their mark...
RUIN...
CHAOS...
the day WE were victorious "I" came into being...
and as he stood.. gazing down upon a battlefield..
weapon drawn.. proud.. yet not..
the spoils of war had broken the ties of arms....
doubt was creeping.. slowly, ready to pounce...
The means.. hidden fears..
May it be swift... whatever it is fate had in store...
may darkness bare the clarity,
that which is no more abundant in light...

and then..

Deafening Silence... Voicing DESPAIR!



Written By : Ahmed Khamees.
Thank you For your contribution Comocho.
2esteba7ah is honored. 

Beguiled...

I, manifesting remembrance..
Yet I am deemed forfeit..
A memory of beauty, shrouded..
A forlorn quest for bliss..

Bereft in a darkened mind, so obscured..
A lifeless soul, is within secured..

Alone, steadfast, on a plain of fire..
Pursuing a dream that I see..
Erect in my mind, on pillars ever higher..
A vision of what darkness could be..

Belief, unspoken.. Deliverance..
Pursuit I seem to outwit..
Evading a conscious, clouded..
A parody of darkness & light..

When brightness in mind, darkness has secured..
Unfinished songs, I never had matured..

Alone, steadfast, on a plain of fire..
Pursuing a dream that I see..
Erect in my mind, on pillars ever higher..
A vision of what darkness could be..


Written By: Ahmed Khamees

Number 1000

When I was 10 a car hit me and I stayed nearly 5 months in the hospital, my father and mother died when I was 12 in a car accident and by the age of 15 my dog luco was ran over by a car in front of my eyes. Since then cars for me are my worst nightmare. I have a Carophobia if there will ever be something called that, for people it’s an unexplained fear of cars but for me, well I’ve told u my reasons, when I see a car or one just passes by me I can’t take my breath and I literally feel I am dying.

I planned my whole life accordingly, bought myself a farm in the middle of nowhere, my whole territory was a no cars land, my horse and my carriage were my companions in my journey, my wife had to park her own car about a mile far from our house and I used to drop her there every morning. She tried with me several times but it really is out of my hands. 

Living this way made me wonder why would people try to raise the pace of their lives tremendously using machinery beasts, leaving behind all the spontaneous harmony I found when living what many might call a basic primitive life, they simply stop enjoying the simplest things that surrounds us and never stop amusing me every day. Moving with my carriage through the fields during sunrise, feeling every dew drop hugging the blossoming flowers giving them a warm good morning, why would anyone on earth want to miss that. Birds flying over the fields singing there wake up song while rabbits and squirrels jump everywhere trying to catch the morning butterflies. The whole scene is just breath taking. Sorry for my long speech but I have a lot to share with you people.

Hi my name is Allen; I am number 1000, the last of the machinery war against man survivors.

Anathema .-. Lost Control

This post is from my own point of view, one of the most expressing lyrics i've passed by.
In darkness we dwell...

Anathema .-. lost control.

Life.. has betrayed me once again
I accept that some things will never change.
I've let your tiny minds magnify my agony
and it's left me with a chemical dependency for sanity.

Yes, I am falling... how much longer 'till I hit the ground?
I can't tell you why I'm breaking down.
Do you wonder why I prefer to be alone?
Have I really lost control?

I'm coming to an end,
I've realized what I could have been.
I can't sleep so I take a breath and hide behind my bravest mask,
I admit I've lost control
Lost control...

What...

“I wonder why this road seems so familiar” don’t get me wrong it’s not just that I’ve been here before, I’ve seen this entire scene before, it’s like a classic dejavu, the same setting the same cars same people same sequence of events, Even the music coming out from the radio, this was the soundtrack before.

Although this kind of things happens a lot, but this time it feels weird. Is my mind playing tricks on me?

Ok then, I’ll play along, let’s see what happens next…hmmmm, the traffic light will turn red in about now. Woow this is creepy. The old lady crossing the street will drop her bag and that young boy will pick it up for her…alright now I am just scaring myself. What is going on? The accident, the ambulance the shouting crowd, why do I remember every single thing?

Wait, this lady approaching me dressed in white, this is new, or am I just forgetting things. Forgetting what, I don’t know what’s even happening. I can see her in slow motion or that’s how I feel, walking towards me in confident steps as if she knows me, I know I haven’t seen her before, she doesn’t look familiar. The wind plays with her golden hair and now she is smiling at me. Only a step away from my car she leans and knocks on my window. i looked at her wondering what might she want from me. With her hands she asked me to open the window. I know that perfume, is it channel? She opened her mouth and “Wake up”.

Oh God, same dream different lady.

A man of habit..

“Where is that light coming from?” He hardly opened his eyes trying to adapt to this light ray that hit his face forcing him to wake up, he can’t sleep in light, that’s why God created night, the daily almost dozen hours when the sun hides from us giving space for every living creature to catch his breath. And that’s why he never leaves the curtains opened, but he must have forgotten that last night.

He gathered himself and took his first step towards his new day, checked his phone, still 6:30 in the morning that really must be the first ray of the sun and it kindly choose him. Work, Work, Work, if only life had less responsibilities and more space for enjoying it, unfortunately that’s not the case. The morning rituals, he has forced himself to be a man of habit, all those who succeeded in life were, and for him it wasn’t at all easy, forcing yourself to do the same thing over and over and over again, as lame as it may sound but it worked for him, his whole life changed, turning to that punctual man whose time schedule is as organized as the gears movement inside his golden watch.

With his cup of coffee his cigarette and Chopin in the background, checking his email in the terrace watching the sun starting its journey as he gets ready for his as well, feeling the morning breeze, that was his way of starting his day. 

If only he knew it was his last.