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Sabrin Zakaria Poem
those who claim to understand
and then turn their back on where they stood
sending auxiliaries under the guise of liberation,
only after supplying the shackles of our own making
they chant of peace-making and lawfulness,
only to drown out the cries of the weary
introducing inconceivable fallacies as gospel into the minds of the masses
wielding ignorance sharpening it until it blooms into hatred
offering remedies to manufactured illnesses,
a corruption to the general mind
a mind that has long since merged into one
we stand in harmony, devoid of unity, tuning into the frequency of their desire
birthing thoughts of incest,
children of big big brother
marching blindly into a battlefield of the deaf
what we ignore may not be what we accept,
but what we condone
Copyright © Sabrin Zakaria | Year Posted 2026
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Sabrin Zakaria Poem
you sink your teeth into my flesh
but only until you reach bone
you carve your initials with my own blood
and remind me i am not free
you use my back as a platform for better reach
hand me sweet fruit and tell me stories of hardship
you blind me from sight and then explain the world as if i never could see
you rewrite my story and force me to recite
i ask for mercy and you rip out my tongue
and demand i repent
pride towers over your humanity,
leaving you in the shadow of desire
you feed it leaving sacrifices of the weak at it’s altar
innovation as means for brutality
civility becomes a caste of righteousness
only the affluent can afford
difference becomes indifferent
the desire for understanding a distraction
while pools of suffering overflow the streets
waiting for you to drown
until it conquers you
Copyright © Sabrin Zakaria | Year Posted 2026
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Sabrin Zakaria Poem
There is a leak I can’t seem to fix,
I called the technician,
but nobody came.
Feelings I’ve kept hidden for years
are pouring out,
bursting with intensity,
destroying the dam
I’ve spent a lifetime building.
My thoughts spiralling
in an endless vortex of misery
I cannot contain.
My heart weakened by sorrow,
burning with desire.
To speak my truth
is a battle between soul and ego,
my pride restricting my tongue,
sealing my lips in willed silence.
A veiled heart cannot be harmed,
vulnerable or exposed.
Yet this feeling of torture persists,
My truth seeping out slowly—
all in vain.
You’ve left me to waste away,
drowning in this puddle
of my own making.
Am i not worth recovery?
Wont you pull me out
and save me from myself?
Was our love not sweet enough?
Was my touch not warm enough?
Who do I have to be,
to be worthy
of the dream you sold me?
Copyright © Sabrin Zakaria | Year Posted 2025
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Sabrin Zakaria Poem
the weight of sleep beckons to me
like an unsatisfied lover
the sweet serenity of warm fabric curbs my appetite
soothing me steady like a hymn of gospel
daylight burns in the horizon
but the coolness of night engulfs my mind
a realm bending light and time
welcomes my drifting soul
a world of adventure too grand for memory to keep
a home where our spirits meet
songs of birds,
the body stirs
an unknown face a forgotten name
a longing for whom i do not know
and yet my body yearns to feel you again
Copyright © Sabrin Zakaria | Year Posted 2026
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Sabrin Zakaria Poem
Oh what a day!
an ocean sky and rays bright enough to probe a grateful mind
a beautified path laid before me to distract from what haunts behind
a bounty of abundance in every direction, still the air is freshest north
the birds sing for me and the trees dance with every step forth
liberation rests in my feet and stagnation fears me
my future is promised colourful, even beyond what I can see
Oh what a beautiful night!
the moon welcomes me home with such harmonious light
reminding me that beauty has no preference
reflecting on the bounties from the day
strengthening my soul from leading astray
love has sewn itself into my hide
the rays gifted to my mind brighten my vision
a reminder that life must be conquered without intercession
a life unenjoyed is like a starved appetite
a bird whose wings refuse to take flight
let us remain in the intoxicating stupor of internal delight
Copyright © Sabrin Zakaria | Year Posted 2026
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Sabrin Zakaria Poem
i feel rage inside me.
Itching, begging to erupt from within.
I cry for reasons unknown.
Tears trickle down before i can realize
so i look up at the sun as punishment.
I want to remain stoic.
My personal martyrdom in exchange for protest.
This cruel world has robbed me of much to receive more of my essence.
I believe tears are extractions of our life form
Our soul losing pieces of itself, defences too weakened and fragile to protect itself.
Instead I choose to feel my own warm embrace, shut my eyes and clasp my hands over my ears to drown out the noise.
I breathe in deeply, exhaling all the pain
waiting patiently until the rage returns.
Copyright © Sabrin Zakaria | Year Posted 2025
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Sabrin Zakaria Poem
i travel barefoot on the hot sands
of a deserted mind
a plane of shallow dunes that tower above the distance
lost in the equivocate of direction
the blaze in the sky exposing the void between my eyes
each step forward staggered and hesitant
regret scorched soles aching for direction
to the score of my soul’s pleas for supplication
i thrust my palms to the heavens begging for an audience with God
“guide me, open the door to your mercy to a weakened heart”
there is a shift in tablature
springs of honey, water and oil
emerge from the barren earth
bringing bouts of life in bounty
ranges of juniper slopes cluster the horizon
colour spreading vast beyond my step
ever sweet is the restored air
Copyright © Sabrin Zakaria | Year Posted 2026
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Sabrin Zakaria Poem
I don’t like poems because they are exact summaries of everything felt at the time they are written. Memories of grief, pain, sorrow, sadness, anger, guilt, shame, joy, passion, love, jealousy, and envy wash over you, flooding your senses. You relive whatever moment led to the inspiration behind the piece, and it is both taunting and exhausting. I feel the weight of all the emotional labour I must overcome just to consume the art.
I prefer fictional writing because of its endless scale, its boundless freedom to explore any reality, any dimension. It’s fun, it’s pretend—it serves as a never-ending night sky, covering you like a blanket over your head, protecting you from anyone who might interrupt your fun. In fiction, I can transport myself to an entirely new experience, forgetting everything that might pull me away from this mental escape.
Copyright © Sabrin Zakaria | Year Posted 2025
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Sabrin Zakaria Poem
i am stuck at the bottom of a well i dug with my own hands
the stain from dirt on my nail beds
is too embedded to be cleansed
ablution wont be found here
a purposeless place too sunken for sustenance to fill
water is too pure and too righteous to visit me here
i befriend the cracked walls and we trade stories of misery
rain has forgotten to fall at my feet like she used to
the sound of quiet has been silenced by the weight of my past
burdening me with a tune of melancholy
“what say you, dear friend? will you stay by my side or will you let the lion die?
its hunger, coating you in arrogance
unwilling to accept your nature
the people no longer rest here, and the water that once lived here has ascended back into the sky
yet only you, my dear friend have found comfort in the nothing i have become”
the voice croaked and dry, lonely walls who comfort an unstable mind
Copyright © Sabrin Zakaria | Year Posted 2026
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Sabrin Zakaria Poem
today i am thankful
for the losses of yesterday
for the anguish courtesy of the world
ruminating in circles until i reached the centre
it was an invitation to your doorstep
you opened the door as soon as i called your name
al-Mujeeb
a river of light invisible to the eye rushed towards me
wrapped in a cocoon of mercy
i am reborn
today i am thankful
for the call from home
asking if i am ready to return
Copyright © Sabrin Zakaria | Year Posted 2026
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