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Back to poems

The Way of Life

Raikah Tafannun Jawad
Jun 4, 2026·2 min read
8

The Way of life could be destructive or beautiful

It could be both

The green grass feels soft against my feet

Like soft tufts of fur

Brushing against me

Cold gentle breezes brush past my skin

Tree trunks stand tall and strong

In the ground with brown dirt surrounding it

Branches carry green leaves,

Together they dance in the gentle wind.

Bright rays of light shine brightly on my face.

flowers radiant in colour dance too.

The blueness above me stretches endlessly

Whilst touching white puffs that shift into different forms

–

Now the peace is gone.

Gunshots

Loud and clear

Boom through the atmosphere

Trees are lit on fire

Burning down the known luscious branches

As the leaves disappear into dust

Greenery fade away as darkness falls

Helpless voices echo into the air

Desperation and panic rush to my mind

The only thing that can be smelt,

Are the burning ashes of the dead.

Smoke enters my lungs

Frantic voices fill my head

As I clutch my chest in pain

Gasping for air

But there is none

The place I once knew as home

Now gone.

Destroyed to bits.

The familar feeling od dread spread inside me

As I watch my home fade away

Like an illusion

Loved ones disappear

Right infront of me

My head spins as I drop to my knees suddenly

Tears fill my eyes to the point where my vision blurs

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They threaten to fall

I wish the pain would just fade away.

The attackers leave

Feeling accomplished to take over MY motherland

Whilst I and my people suffer in silence

The unbearable pain consume my insides

Like a sponge, as darkness takes over

Numbing me temporarily,

Pain is never ‘temporary’

But rather permenant

I look at the sky for hope

Hoping for a change

–

After time has passed on

Here they come back,

Marching the lands,

Pleading with apologies

Apologies are like band-aids,

But band-aids don’t fix salted wounds

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