Poetry from Ahmad Al-Khatat


A picture of her spoke a thousand words
but when I held her hands and walk away
I feel that the whole world is peaceful and
incredible until we are reached the boneyard
She kissed me and told me “don't be confused”.
I remember the twilight of infinite satisfaction
She would exhale and let me exhale to end my
fatigue, difficulty, and still help me to dream of
strolling back to Baghdad without any barriers,
or even hold a weapon from the era of the war.
She is the motivation, she is the justification
If you ever meet with her, let her know that my
heart is weeping with her scent, and my eyes
are bleeding from the times we touched the broken
star to collect your elegance to the moonlight.
The sun is the same sun without her silky hair
The winter is the exact winter without her soft lips
Today is a delusion day because people are
everywhere and everyone is wondering if her
death is the terror that provoked me to live miserable.