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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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And did those ancient minds Burn their tongues with tribal gluttony Crafting, yielding, yearning Buried in their sacred scribes Play-Gods of their own decree Was it the ravenous hunger
Of fading lands untold That let them wield such power? Their artful retrogrades beggared The divine Carving out the flesh Of celestial globes As their Father had With tender kin And do we feast on Holy bread? Self-proclaimed Man's Earth Man's wisdom, man's rotten soil All bursting into cosmic ruins As Jupiter crescendos And echoes primal choirs Were we too cruel? When our palms had spread themselves Across the coarse edges of brass Crafting, Wielding, yearning A new misapprehension And with cursed constellations did we Paint our own Sennachreib? Or had it been That when the fruitless mocking Broke the ritual trust Saints in true demeanour Revealed true sentiment Of sky; its colour and the shape Evangelical daughter, how I pity you As Daemon claws your Man-made eyes Man-made wisdom, Man-made distress Will you see at last My silent spectator That with our daily bread Rooted from Man's Earthly soil Starved the Heavens And pleaded Its reply. And now I stand Waiting on a senseless figure Beaten, Bruised and Buried I scream at the sky And my voice echoes Kamila Abdulhamidova is a 16 year old college student from London. Originally from Tajikistan, Kamila loves to incorporate elements of culture and nostalgia in her work. She is currently studying English A level at Sixth Form. Comments are closed.
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Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
March 2024
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