A Glance In the Past
My father recalls to me stories of his past,
gripping his fists tightly
as his faces turns gray
telling me,
“Son it was a dark time for Lebanon”
Anxiously I continue listening
spilling his inner suppressed memories
“15 years… 15 years of blood and hate”
Buildings that once stood graciously in the sky
punctured by the bullets that continuously danced in midair
Streets that were once filled with jubilant people
now only hosted lifeless cold corpses
Men grew absent from their families
forcing women to carry lethal arms to shield their broods
with their fingers embedded on the trigger
Lurking from street to street
in a scavenger’s hunt for vital necessities
The excruciating smell of rot at sunrise
a mixture of decomposing human flesh and garbage
Flooded the streets
an endless totality of discarded wastes
After the sun departs
the stagnant stars appear
not a clatter can be heard on the tranquil streets
Sympathetically reaching out to my father,
removing him from the ominous nightmare he re-erected,
holding his trembling hands firmly
as I bring him to the reality of the passive present
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