We tremble

We shiver

We wail

We shake our heads to revive our lost thoughts

But little do we know how truly long gone these thoughts of ours are

Our beliefs

Our concepts

Our views

Our ideas

All waver in the unreachable distance

Almost like a distant memory, they become obsolete

They become relics at an antique shop

Left in the darkness

Left in the dust


You forget the perfect memories,

And instead you remember nothing but the dust that piled up over the years

We become fatalists, doomsayers

But is it our fault?

With the belief of a Third World War

The impending anarchy that awaits the world

The havoc that will be unleashed unless we intercept the death call

Do you still think it is our fault?

You are merely players in this game

We forgive if you want to win

We forgive if you want to survive

We travel time in an attempt to salvage what was lost in the centuries

We do this for you

We do this for us

We become pedestrians crossing the street

We become believers in the house of God

We worship and are blindingly worshipped

We are the portraits, images, paintings hung on the wall

Bestowing hope to all those who seek it

So do you still think it is our fault?

By Jana Shehab