My Angel


Life is perfect but the caring sound died.
Why do you want to know it why?
So dont you ask it why?
It died, I dont know why?

“Why do angels die?”
Why do you cry?

For the angel my angel – let me cry.

Do you know?

The heaven has angels – it is you my angel – I am looking for you in this perplexity. People tell me that the angels are everywhere on the sky. You know, I am looking for you every night, searching you on the sky to see how you live now abandoned me all alone under the same sky.

Too often I walk too lonely from my dream – the dream that stole your last breath and sent you on the sky. You see I shiver out of coldness but I still sit on the roof watching you on the sky. With my deepest focus, I see you are flying on the same sky you pretended to fly enfolded together.

Still you exist wrapped in a cloudy sheet. I see you when the clouds draw your image in its sheet. It is not perfect – however, it still shines. Your face look divine as too closely watching you dance in the beauty of bright cloudy sheet. I begin twinkling too fast as the cloudy sheet draws your image in the heart of the moon so bright.

Lonely when I sit on the roof in the middle of the night – I see strange faces staring at me – when the moon from behind the icy clouds shines restlessly. But you know, these tears don’t permit eyes other face to meet. It is so cloudy when I look at them, I feel betrayed as if steeped in sins. I don’t see the clear picture since you are gone. Only yours stands here and now. For evermore, this false happiness pretends. The “you” built in me the love soo deeply that I can’t meet any face for I feel ruined in sin. Dedicated i so deeply that I can never dare to meet.

Too often I walk like a dying soul from a dream to death the moment you walk in the mind. The dream that stole your last look. The skies are full of angels but I don’t see one. The angel I am looking for has gone away – left the pictures that speak no more. I am perplex to smile at you but you are so sad in the picture that you reply no more. My dear angel – sing as you did before – before you fly too far as you did – never more.

About samad1986

Abdul Samad Haidari is a poet, writer, teacher and a former freelance journalist, currently residing in Indonesia as a stateless refugee. He is the author of The Red Ribbon He fled his home country at the age of seven and grew up wandering in Pakistan and Iran as a child refugee, and was separated from his family for the majority of his childhood. For two years, at the age of eight and nine, he was forced into child labour in the construction industry in Iran. In contrast, Pakistan offered refugees like him the opportunity to study and work. This education and work experience culminated in Abdul teaching computer studies and English language courses at the Intel Computer Center and Pak Oxford Professionals. After the collapse of the Taliban government, Abdul returned to Afghanistan thinking that the security situation had improved, and that he could take part in the reconstruction of his war-torn country. With this in mind, Abdul served as a freelance journalist and humanitarian aid-worker in areas of the country that remained dangerous to civilians because of the influence of terrorist groups. Abdul served with the Norwegian refugee council (NRC), ActionAid Afghanistan, Daily Outlook Afghanistan group of newspapers, and The Daily Afghanistan Express. As a freelance journalist, Abdul wrote articles and editorials about on-the-ground realities, which were then circulated widely. These had a particular focus on women and children’s rights, corruption, transparency and accountability in government, warlords and terrorist groups’ actions and the systematic persecution of minority groups in both Afghanistan and Pakistan.
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