Pomegranate days are gone,
Heaven knows we barely look,
At antics of non interactive relationships,
At souvenirs of broken gifts,
But it looks anyways,
It knows us by ours names,
That we hide from,
That we hate others having,
But we live anyway.
We move on , wait,
Till we arrive to the sea,
Till you see your legs on snow there,
Of a winter to the springtime,
Our legs were held by the waves,
Till oceans kept us apart.
We moved on from systems of wars,
To war of systems that didn’t care,
But we didn’t care for our garden anyway,
Never understood it’s planting,
Only never cared-looked, too,
Beside the other dishes,
In the pomegranate days,
We only cared to ask,
What killed reaching all along:
“Who are we planted with at ?”
Can never move on,
The questions were under the sky,
My life ended at track circles,
They never end,
Last life in the universe,
That never end,
Stuck between two states,
Of the many phases of life and death,
That both end,
Stuck in a state of being,
The empire of no being,
All that I’m left being,
Is remenants of memories,
Left on snow,
They’re the light of my life,
They are left without me on the snow..
No time
In no time
No time
zaki monzer 