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Ash Tray

Oh! I stared into my soul and found nothing, nothing but ,heaps and heaps of ashes, My reflection, the beautiful art, the fragrant paint, the intricate gems on ashtray; enchantment to the eye of the beholder. My soul, but the simple underlying glass plate; the bearer of those fiery deep gashes. I cried out ! lamented day after day, Why me? Why me? Why me? Alas! Enlightenment stroke; not me ,but the whole world an ashtray. Consumed by its darkness; Consumed by its dreadful deeds. The cry of unborn for love! The never ending flood of blood, cursed child of poverty, unjust and inhumanity. Ashes and ashes dumped into death pit. When does this flood dry? When does the sun come? Where is hope? There is still hope, for from ashes is phoenix born. My ashtray not a grave yard, but a cradle of new life, a life of love. Let me have an ashtray. Ash, not my unfulfilled dreams , but ashes of my nightmares. Burn not your love; but the very cry of those who need it. Burn the very core of evil. Burn the very ocean of fear, the fear of being trampled, the fear of being let down. Let the light ,the warmth of love, enrich, encircle every living soul. So let's light up the fire, and let the flame burn!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Book: Shattered Sighs