To Amina
Humans,
They may be angels fallen from heaven,
Painting ode landscapes with the brightest colours of the sky,
For many sailors they are secure havens,
Enliven humans for many long nights.
Or,
May be angels with horns, straying from the path of righteousness and delight,
Indulging themselves in sheer vacant entertainment any other days,
Not using their potential to change the world, in vain goes their might,
Being nothing more than gullible human creatures, laying in the sun’s setting rays.
But then there is one exceptional human being, outshining any surroundings,
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Being blessed with many talents, having a quirky attitude,
Smiles and laughter fill her life while she is taking over mountains,
Promised a busy life but mastering it with no worries at all.
Or seemingly mastering it with no problems, only true ones understand,
That beneath that façade lingers a broken face of a little girl,
So broken that she became unbreakable, ‘too scared to command me’,
And wishing nothing more but to her loved ones, that they shall not live a life like hers.
That they must not become like her:
Being a delicate melancholy rose with happy thorns
Or,
Being an angel with pearl-like tears and with a demon’s horns.
To Amina.
