OLD NAILS
Quazi Johirul Islam
I have been trying to remove old nails
From my feet, from my palms, for many years
Jordan full to the brim of my pure tears
Pain spread all over with the great details.
Bethlehem-sky broken down to Sinai
Torment of Sinai melted the mountain
Golgotha-sin washed away by the rain
People climbed further up, up very high.
My body is still nailed to the old cross
Dripping blood, flows to every dark ocean
Who knows the world standing on a question?
Someone spreading fear with his shinny tawse.
You nailed me to ground and ask me to walk
Even I give a try, there is nighthawk?
Holliswood, New York. 11 September 2019.
Categories:
tawse, spiritual,
Form: Sonnet