MUSINGS.. A collection of poetry

Tales that they live

Tales that tremble your soul
Tales that tumble your spirits
Tales that thrash your hopes
Tales that trash your dreams
Tales that tatter your heart
Tales that terrify your mind

Tales that thunder
Tales that burn

Tales that deafen your ears
Tales that mist your eyes
Tales that seal your lips
Tales that clog your throat
Tales that numb your brain
Tales that sting your heart

Those are the tales that they live
Each day, every day..

A little boy, about four or five years old, was seated holding hands of his three year old sister amidst utter chaos in a partly bombed hospital of Ghaza. He and his little sister were orphaned and were left with absolutely nothing, not a thing. Their clothes were greyish and they had ashes smeared on their faces, here and there, as if they had been taken out of rubbles. Apparently, their entire family was wiped out, and not even a distant relative was left to whom they could go to. Despite the look of panic and helplessness in his eyes, when a person asked the boy if he was scared he immediately smiled and answered that he was not. That moment shook me to the core. It was so subtle yet so profound. It kept me awake the entire night, the scene unfolding over and over again behind my eyelids whenever I close my eyes and in my mind whenever I open them. It pains my heart to think that there are countless more moments like that and countless more stories behind them..