Words from the underground

By

Toufik halfaya

The graves
the graves speak in great intensity
swallowing dynasty after dynasty
from the dust to the dust
inside me you are from the past
I am so pitch , gloomy and dark
I am the full stop not a question mark
I am a must not a free choice
scream and hear your voice
differing between none
like the father like the son
weather being poor or rich
I am the house I am the ditch
put the body and walk
cover me and lock
today I eat then I ask for more
you knock and I open the door

The last goodbye

write my name on the gravestone
before I become dust and bone
give me a pen and a paper to write
before I see the darkness and loose my sight
let me write my last words before I go
dear lord that's my flesh though
dig my ditch and wait for me
death is chasing me where shall I flee
this life ends the other one begins
do not fear death but fear your sins
today I go free with no chains
tomorrow I feel sorrow and pains
my life goes in a blink of an eye
my soul goes up and fly
the body fades to be dust
death is not a choice but a must
the dears will cry and mourn
my death is written before I was born
before my breath stops and I die
I want say the last goodbye

The winter
The winter comes the spring leaves
the roses die the trees lose leaves
Dark empty streets at night
the snow lies down white
drops of rain fall straight down
Lampposts lighten the town
The cold coming morning is wet
like a small greenish hamlet
Silence is the only sound
Hidden away in a shroud
The running rivers are covered with frost
Good has returned after it was lost
Seasons come and go
sea, roses, rain and snow
The joyful kids out side
winter is the best tide
Soon it will be a turned page
disappears like a white mage
Meanwhile we shall wait again
for the cold breeze and straight rain

The stolen star

I shall tell you about the stolen star
I shall do that before I go too far
The hearts died the eyes ran dry
Stand by the grave and say goodbye
For the star that was stolen by those
If I have to mourn let me bring a dead rose
Small hands , innocent sparkling eyes
a lovely smile , pure tears when he cries
A priceless gift that was brought to life
the source of happiness for a husband and a wife
Unbearable pain after his death
a deadly silence that seizes the breath
His small body was covered in white
his soul flew away like a kite
All what was left is a picture
Bury him today, grieve over later
He was a new white page
a victim of the soldier's rage
A raped mother beside a crucified father
tortured to death by a barbed wire

They left this life to the other one

a happy family with a beloved son

You made a promise

You made a promise so I gave you one

Now you are left I am done
Night after night I count the stars
your words left deep scars
You left for no reason
shall I call it fate or treason
It is too late for a new date
you set the trap I took the bait
I remember the way you sing
you were the queen I was the king
I remember the touch of your hair
love is no more than fair
You left and turned your back
when the clock ticks please don't come back
To me you were the best
I loved you much I loved the most
Your stab hurt me too much
you set the fire and lit the match
You and you have my freedom keys
I can't stand with broken knees

You may forget but I am not

My sufferance ends with a final dot.

A lost orphan
A child born of an unknown father
He had never seen his mother
Thrown in a dark orphanage
No way to go on a broken bridge
He misses his mother's tenderness
like a dry leaf in the wilderness
Seeing the other kids smile
Alone in his funeral in the green mile
No one to hug him or to kiss
the bliss is curse, the curse is bliss
His nights are slow and hard
a young lad with a broken heart
Inside four walls, a small window
He hides his head beneath the pillow
Where is the apple of his eye?
Is she alive, or did she pass away?
He waits and begs to see her
crying eyes with a hopeless stare
Under the rain the cold the strain
Goodbye happiness welcome pain

Time goes slow, age flashes like a spark

He was given a letter, signed with a mark
An indescribable pain, heavy burden
A nameless kid, a lost orphan.

The given birth

thank you mother for the given birth
Thank you for the breath and the mirth
You suffered the colossal anguish
You saved me when I was about to perish
The moment I opened my I eyes to the world
Your voice is the first I ever heard
Spending night soothing my pain
I felt life making me fain
in the great sorrow you granted me hope
Teaching me not to climb the torn rope
With each blink I see your precious face
I am your son no one can take your place
In my sickness you shed tears
Holding me tight with all fears
The first steps I made
Wiped the pain make it fade
This life I am living is yours
your prayers opened my doors
In my eyes you are a queen
like you I have never seen
No way to pay back your favor
You are my love you are my mother

deep with my silence

I drowned deep with my silence
For a long time I lived with no conscience

I have been asking myself the same question

Am I living I reality or fiction?

Now I experienced the real pain

I realized what my heart did contain

It was as dark as the night

Because of my sins I lost my sight

Each time I raise my head high

I cannot halt myself then I cry

I am struggling with my evil

my life is a complicated riddle

I am seeking for forgiveness

my heart is still full of kindness

It is not about wealth or treasure

it is not about joy or pleasure

I want to live in peace and tranquility

I want to give myself high fidelity

I drowned deep with my silence

so I can dump my evil and arrogance

A dark night

A dark night full of clouds in red

A night full of bloodshed
Pain flows with the western coming breeze
Frightened birds hugging the sad trees
The deadly silence that comes before the storm
The remained scar that is left after the harm
Stinky winds because of the unburied corpse
Greediness, rage made us coarse
The joyful laughs turned to a scream of pain
Some gave up life some remain
no place for the weak among the strong
No more laughs no more dance but the sad song
where are those days of yore?
Where are the running kids on the golden seashore?
Someday the harvest will be dry hay
Someday we will be clay
everything has an absolute end
nothing lasts to still stand

I met her
I met her I wish I have never met her
she had neither a mother nor a father
she came by my side and asked for a seat
a beautiful girl wears torn clothes with bare feet
she was dirty full of sweat
because of the summer heat
she called the doves and threw some wheat
smiled and said they are so neat
they have no problems they only want to eat
deeply their attitude is deplore
unlike this people who is boor
I asked her "where she lives"
she replied where the doves soar
I live somewhere in the moor
when I cry I release a lion's roar
my life is crude and sore
once I was a queen in days of yore
she stood and walked with a shuffle
then I realized we have to be thankful

Again
Today I lay my head down
With my lost pride among the crowd
Drops of sin tears, my face went pale
My soul for the devil was for sale
I wept with deep regret
heavy burdens with unpaid debt
Please god forgive my sinful soul
Anytime for it you will call
Too many funerals, too much death
So many lost words for the last breath
Seeing my body in the grave
Whom shall help me, whom shall save?
Sins set me under great strain
I am standing before you hopeless again

A widow's sacrifice

To protect her sons, she turned her back to the fire

As everybody knows, this is the mothers' desire

And this is a widow's sacrifice

Her heart became cold and tough as the ice

She lost her husband years ago

Loneliness became her only foe

She toils so hard to get her sons a loaf of bread

She sheds tears for her man who is dead

You can see scars on her arm

Why? Because she works in a farm

Before she goes to sleep

Profoundly her wound is deep

That widow deserves the best ever

For keeping her only family together

She draws smiles on her sons' face

She turned their poverty into grace

A widow's sacrifice in raising her children

Every night around that small old caldron
Now I give you the chance to write a story A story
About a widow's glory

An invitation to my funeral
An invitation to my funeral
Come and light a candle
My death is not casual
The grave is my cradle, and my castle

You are the next do not be fearful

We were born and we will die equal

Be faithful our death was and still fateful

My life is a story in a novel

It was written by my own pencil

Sins are shameful, life is racial

Never mourn when i am dead

Never shed a tear like the lord said

Do not forget me; do not let me out of your head

Till I die, spread my words and never lie
Tell my mother do not sorrow, do not cry
Till the water runs dry till the soul raises to the sky

That is fair and fine; set a line

No more drink no more wine

We are the prey, the death is the lion
Someday darkness will be covered by the sunshine
Meanwhile I will take my last sigh
I am wiping my tears, making my eyes dry
The warmth of my heart is gone
I hope that my wish will be done

in the game of death nobody did won

I may not witness the next dawn

the angel of death is about to blow the horn

he will never speak ,never warn

an invitation to my funeral, was made before I was Born

My soul
Carry the coffin and walk in deep sorrow
Head towards the ditch my deeds will follow
Today there will be no joy just the tears
today will be the day to leave my dears
The ditch is too tight and scary
Bury me and leave the cemetery
Go back home and mourn
today i leave tomorrow a child will Be born
My path was paved by my hand
waiting for my hour to end
Life goes in a blink of an eye
before I perish I want to say goodbye
Remember me in good not in bad
pray for me when I am dead
i left my words before I leave
You will see in what I believe
Sorry for whatever I did
sorry for those who bleed
Death will knock my door
welcome that's what I was waiting for

My soul will return to its owner

it will obey the only master the only caller
Fire burns fire, death itself will die
so my soul is, it will fly away high.

The hand wrote

The hand wrote ,no one will read
The eaten bread came from a small seed
with each fallen drop there will come flood
our faith faded ,the bloodshed will spread
the deaf can hear, the blind will see
Jog ,walk ,crawl even with a broken knee
Seek the past, journey and wander
break silence ,rumble like thunder
bathe too far ,go up in smoke
Like a flying bee in the morning roke
The head shall held high as the tree
be calm full of rage such as the sea
today my pen's ink runs dry
I pass away ,my words will never die

The smile of the poor

The smile of the poor remains a dern
A secret that everyone must learn
The grievous life shows no mercy
Patience is the only policy
For them life meant to be a test
living the day waiting for the next
For some others life is pleasure
Luxurious living fun and treasure
Satisfaction was and still a virtue
Though the candle burns blue
Suffering at day resting at night
Keeping together holding tight
Every night they gather round
showing love giving mound
They see dreams rather nightmares
they endure burdens that no one bears
Despite their stomachs rumble
Poverty thought them to be humble
Their sever life is unwritten book
So do not judge them until you look

The first night

the first night is your night
happy bride inside the white

Your pure dreams came true

no more tears no more feeling blue
The world is yours forever
you had the best wish ever

The fate smiled at your face

you and him are crowned in grace

The house will be crowded with pretty boys

they will shout and laugh making much noise

You will grow up seeing them men and women

yet the best is still on the way coming

Yesterday you were a girl today you are a wife

I wish you happiness with a joyful life.

The pen
The pen between my fingers is speechless
telling me don't write it is hopeless
No need to shed a single tear
alone you stand with nobody near
My ink is not shed in vain
like the blood in a wounded vein
Don't write no one will read
put me and don't make me bleed
In the right hand I am a weapon
write and see what is going to happen
Burn the papers, but the words remain
what is on the papers shifts to the brain
The lord created me the first
if I died it is because of thirst