You, Three in One!

Your confident calm tones of voice. Your choice of words. Your timing to when to listen and when to speak. All with a certainty of unsure shadows.

I can almost see your smile and sadness or is it yearning… They all are chasing me, my addiction to our conversions.

Your three layers, toughness unkind surface, yet soft gentle middle and last is confusions… all I want, yet can’t… silence is the end of the story.

حبي الصغير...مات صغير...

حبي الصغير. قتلتيه في المهد وديع.        

كان حبكي حلم رضيع .كان حبكي ولاده ثانيه لقلبي الضريع.

الحلم بقي حلم ، لم يري حقيقه الصبح  الموضئ.
الرضيع لم يستطيع ان ينصب قامته و مات صغير.

السؤال يبقي.. هل كان حبي طفل رضيع آم حملآ كازپآ

You killed my young love, you killed in its cradle 
Your love was young feeding new born, it was my second birth

The dream, became nothing but a dream. it didn't see the morning light
The new born couldn't stand straight and dies in its early days

The question continued, was my love a new birth or false pregnancy