The End

Have you ever really thought, what the word “end” means, Relax and close your eyes, let me guide you through the scenes,
The End is not a word, O No, it’s rather a far, far place,
And to reach it you have to go, through a long and feverish race.

Your eyes and ears won’t work here, you’ll have to use your heart,
For the heart holds all the senses, insight here is an essential art,
For one thing love and hate, are sitting side by side,
Nearly hugging in fabulous unity, like a young couple taking a ride.

Life and death are also here, playing chess on a table upright,
The pieces are all in one color, that’s neither black nor white,
They play with each others pieces as they stare at a nearby lake.
For chess was once their addiction, and it’s a hard habit to break.

Madness and sanity can be spotted, sitting closely hand in hand,
Madness is just relaxing while sanity is playing with sand,
The sand has no color, as if it’s made of air,
But again the hand of sanity, pantomimes digging a lair.

Good and evil appear like a typical identical twin,
Only good has a clear old scar, like a deep double chin,
The scar is healing fast, and soon it will be gone,
Yet “soon” here means “never“, and “never” means “now” for fun.

The strangest thing I’ve noticed, an‘ I got it in a heart beat,
I have the same skin color, like everyone and everything I meet.
It’s neither black nor white, pretty close to everything else,
For the end has just one color, and the color is nothingness.

The Beginning 

A. L. Gomaa© 2006

Along Came a Sensation

With every humane emotion, I’ve duly endured,
Along came a sensation, I hardly ever cured,

I struggled to capture happiness,
in a moment of conscious madness,
I failed and all I found,
Was hurt and pain and sadness,

my heart happily Seized and Lured.

With love I dreamt and rhymed and prayed it’s meant to stay,
Along came deprivation, scattering my hopes astray,

O Love, master of emotions,
Why do you always part,
Leaving only sorrow behind you,
Mercilessly Breaking my heart,

forcing my soul to lose its way .

With hope I fueled my senses, kept a serene and confident smile,
Along strolled despair with a face so bleak and vile,

I tried to fight it’s demons,
I swore I’d never give in,
But despair is a mighty conqueror,
That’s meant to fight and win,

that’s meant to stay for a while.

With life I Hoped and loved, laughed and hopelessly cried,
Along lurked death, that smiled each time I sighed,

“you can find love, and conquer deprivation,
You can find hope, and stamp out desperation,
You can be as lucky as some,
Who found faith and consolation ,

but how can you escape me, even if you tried”?

A. L. Gomaa© 27th of august 2006

The Final Call

Prevent the earth from circling around this glorious sun,
Stop all kids from laughing, from playing, from having fun.
Let the plants curse the spring, let the whole world fail to run,
Let a son stab his father, let ‘im be proud of what he’s done.

Is life a chronic sickness and death the ultimate cure?
Is love a poisoned well and hate the fountain pure?
Is hope an illegitimate child and desperation a righteous heir,
of a god forsaken kingdom; that’s neither just nor fair?

Farewell to you, my dear old friend, parting in this world is sadly a must.
Memories of you will haunt me forever, despite the ashes, beyond the dust.
You now exist in a world so true, amazingly real and majestically just.
You're now in the hands of a mighty God, in him have faith, in him do trust.

I pray to you O mighty lord; an' I know you love us all,
honor my dearest friend, who has accepted your final call,
Show him your grace, give him peace, bless his spirit with eternal rest,
Grant him love, allow him joy and offer him mercy at its best.

End

A. L. Gomaa 2008

Ode to Qana

To all the little children, who have been brutally slain,
Who couldn't’t defend themselves, as bombs fell like rain,
To all who died with fear as their last and only friend,
who couldn't’t shed a tear, as their lives reached an end.

To every mourning mother, who lost a beloved small child,
Who imagines he’s alive and smiling, as madness and sanity collide,
To the crippled, to the different and weak, who were too obvious to hide,
As the thundering shells of rage, hurt their fronts or maimed their sides.

To the poets who lost their words, while seeing the grim face of death,
When all words lost their meanings, lungs craved for one last breath,
To the lonely, shocked survivor, who struggled under debris,
Only to witness a horrific scene, The wickedest the eye can see,

To the dreamer, to the lover , to the artist, to those remote and forlorn,
Who realized the painful reality, and wished they were never born,
To the cider, the doves, the olive fields, to the power of life I say,
May God bless you and honor you, may you smile somewhere someday.

End

A. L. Gomaa

If I Die..

If I die young, and the mourners depart,
then days pass by, life offers a fresh start,
and love promises it will be just the same,
will you still smile when you hear my name?

if I die old, and the mourners were few,
then days pass by and your pain was true,
and love promises were not just the same,
will you still sigh when you hear my name?

if I die now, and the mourners were done,
then days pass by and your shock was gone,
and love promises you wealth and fame,
I'll always smile when you call my name.


End

A. L. Gomaa© 2008