Chic Hatred Of Life

Your majesty covers the feathers of death
Beneath the wings of your corpse
And are you watered with delicate dirt
Or the chic name which bears your disgust.

Your majesty is the unmoving majesty
In which stir generations and centuries of mourning
And of joy.

Upon you reveals the sea
The blue of essences
And within you the dark of mysteries
Bottomed over thousand of skulls

Then are you the cursed and the blamed,
The hated subject in the hours of misery
And are you the beloved,
The tender chest of giving
In the seconds of glee.

And do you spread light in the morning of eyes
And grass darkness in the ones of night
As if to declare destinies in your hands
One of evil, one of goodness.

Of your scars are built my cracks,
My wounds and groans
And of your dust I was formed
Broken image of your ruins.

Then would your ugliness turn into beauty
More magical than the fake colors of rainbow
And your rust crystallize into gold
More shiny than the glossed cheeks of materiality.

Then the prostitution of foolishness blindfolds us
And call we your spit rain,
Your hell sun.

Your majesty is the scent of dogs
Sprayed over the dew of nature
And Nature,
My blind, my hated
Is nothing but
Pretended beauty
Claiming life.

( C ) Copyright 2010 ADEL ATTIYEH