The Last Farewell

Departing with my desperate eyes, bleeding heart and exhausted soul.  I depart with my precious stones of my love-tears. I depart enfolded with the song I could never sing – with the unending miles, I could never walk. I depart with a chaotic-farwell rapped carefully in my pouch of dreams. I depart with the dreams built with your soft smile and wild-eyes. I depart with the hurting dreams you cheerfully gifted my soul every now and then. 

As I depart, I spread them under the same strange skies of yours. I will make them grow wild to fight the storm in your eyes. Making them taller than my inherited numbness. Taller than the greedy weeds in your garden with wild thorns – hurting the deepest part of my heart every time it calls in for you. 

As I depart, forgive me of standing at a distance watching the greedy weeds grow in your chaotic garden – hugging you in nostalgia – watching you dancing enfolded fragile. But call for once – enfolded in chaos, for a reason even little while. Touch my exhausted soul and become to me encapsulated only in scents and smells – sounding and sighing attendant of a special native wind that will owe your gain of pain. 

As I depart, I will go too far away – you may hear the whispers of a drain; not realizing it isn’t singing your last song. I am the drained in you – for the soul I cry, that’s you. For the soul I want to grow that is for you. I will be lily-livered this once to be a breathing – living –sane – me. 

 But before I depart, i want to be steeped in your eyes – listen to my last song I carefully fostered – for a reason, only for the reason that was you. I fostered like the dew grows on fronds – for my jasmine that is you. You shall dance as the golden sun downs – I and mine shall stay here a little while and  look back at our miles we walked and stare at the stars that left me in dismal from under your palm fronds.

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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