For Pam Thompson
Another night would start
Another counting of sheep
Another tossing and turning
Melting down in the childhood memories
Escaping from the bitterness of the years of adolescence
Another night would start
Embracing the shadows of immortal nightmares
Escaping from the stigma of strangeness
Another day would start
I wake under the burden of surrealist dreams
Strolling the streets of ruthless cities
Another evening would come
She is coming with her fatal silence, with her boundless innocence
Listening to me indulgently
I struggle to hide my pain behind my lunatic laughter
I don’t stain her nobility with my upsetting stories
I don’t tell her how last night the sorrow scratched my soul
I don’t let her enter my chaotic kingdom
© Mardin Ibrahim
Writers Without Borders 