The head, decapitated,
it sits on a shore, at some corner of the world.
Desperation is what they feel as blood gushes out from the half-neck.
Death, however, has always been there,
nothing new, an enslaving event.
The name of the deal was predefined \u2013
\u201cflight\u201d. It has been around since the Order of Assassins.
Part of us see the beauty in all this, even when the tortures last
till the moon starts to shine over us.
Sir!
There you lie, your frail length almost pours out from the bed.
And here I am, by your side, barren inside,
yet my mind replays a moment with you,
where you feed me freshly-picked strawberries.
My worst nightmare is finding a way into my life,
into you, through your flesh and bones
yet my heart replays a moment with you,
where you dress me with freshly-picked strawberries.
Sir!
Many calls for prayer have been sung.
And here I am, can\u2019t look away.
My devotion may be in vein, but what I\u2019m losing now is transcendental.
You missed most of it, as they held a mirror to your nose
and checked if you still breathed. So beautifully you lay there.
Before this fate, I was as effective as a human shield.
Here I am, bitter as rock, by the frilled duvets,
thinking how we must keep you alive
and not sickly-yellow and quiet like this.
See? I\u2019m here by the frilled duvets, ice cold,
thinking how I crave to coil up next to you.
Sir!<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We finally made peace with death. First our eyes watched the floors, then our fists beat our chests. Distances reached, horizons obtained, flasks of scarce water and worn sheaths. Almost everyone lost their sons to this war. Our sons. Our people. They believed in the protection of their shields and wanted to go as far as it got them, is that why we say our hymns for our sons, on and on for days? Is this our fate?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I decided I\u2019ll surpass fate and kismet and luck or whatever. So here I am, standing before that reckless hope. I grabbed it by the chin, pushed it against a wall and I let anger take control. I asked it, and I was quite sincere about it too, \u201cHow is it that death gets in?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The way you put your head on my head,
lifeless, breathless, heavy.
Your word is my law, and I stand by its chime.
With largest oceans behind my back,
you were my creation, and I gave you away.
Your first steps, your first words, have been my challenge.
And the way you put your shoulders on my legs.
Sir!
Greatest storms whirled inside me, and, oh, I prayed
to the Almighty; to His holiness, I presented all of my organs,
but they pulled out my womb, or what\u2019s left of it,
and even then, all that mattered was you, sir.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Something penetrates, once, twice, my spleen watches it happen, smells pleasant, like linden, my favorite, something to go for a child is being created, from the char of my liver, my flesh puffs, my flesh grows fat,
count those things that penetrate me, arms maybe, one, two and three,
stop there, stop at the second syllable of my name, I did not do this to
me, I did not choose to carry this burden<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Beings must produce, yet I\u2019m barren inside. All this glory and all these gifts, what use do they serve, I pondered for Crying my lungs out, biting my tongue, fires scorching my stomach,do these all go together for me now? Sign off my sentence, my tears are my sin. Translator\u2019s Note<\/em><\/strong>: The story, although fiction, sits in actual history, and gives us some pointers towards having an understanding of era and geography. Topkapi Palace is in modern day Turkey, and was mostly used as the emperor\u2019s residency during the Ottoman Empire\u2019s rule between 13th and early 20th century. The Order of Asssasins, \u1e24ashashiyan or \u1e24ash\u012bshiyya, was a radical Nizari Isma\u2019ili sect that assasined Muslim and Christian leaders before that time period. The ordeal of flight, as in the work towards enabling humans to fly by any means, caused controversy in the Muslim world in the past, since it is simply unnatural for humans to fly, but attempts are encountered in Ottoman history. The story, too, is likely placed in a time period where such attempts stir political balances.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The head, decapitated,it sits on a shore, at some corner of the world.Desperation is what they feel as blood gushes out from the half-neck.Death, however,…<\/p>\n
Your look is my law, and I stand by its tingle.
With vastest moors behind me
you were my darling, and I gave you away.
Your first words, my sultan, your highness,<\/em> have been my challenge.
Beings must produce, yet I\u2019m barren inside, and you\u2019re lovely inside.
That\u2019s what you said<\/p>\n\n\n\n
a long time and I could not find the answer. I knit for a long time, laces
and wools too, wore them in the cold maroon rooms of this palace, in
the cold of my own body, cold, songs were cold, my violin was warm,
only to me. They took me right away, and no surprise there, I was
pretty, I stayed quiet when they split my legs, but I\u2019m known for
kicking quite hard. How funny, the way things change so much so fast,
we were a thousand and now I\u2019m just one, do the winds always bring injustice with them or does it travel in the pockets of soldiers?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Or have I just comprehended death and broken apart while at it?
If we can\u2019t breathe where the dead go,
tears can flood, for the duration of the earth\u2019s age even,
quail with rice or grape compost.
He found his place in the history books
as did I.
It takes courage to stand before a dagger; I did,
I stood still as a brick and I shed tears.
If it wasn\u2019t for your shadow, I\u2019d call you my child,
my life, my signature, the one that makes me get lost in those oceans.
Don\u2019t be hurt, because I\u2019m ordinary, I think you\u2019ll outlive me.
You\u2019ll have no idea though how we managed to get that life out of you.
I bit my tongue, held back at every chance, and saved the pain along my spine.
My womb dried off and shrunk, they pulled it out, but I
will not give up on your scent.
I yearn for your chest to rise up to the highest,
for you to take one deep breath.
If it wasn\u2019t for your soul, I\u2019d call you my child,
my flesh, my bone, the one that makes a prisoner out of me.
Don\u2019t be hurt, because I\u2019m ordinary, you\u2019ll outlive me.
I think I see the blue of your eyes again, yes.
You\u2019ll have no idea though, what getting that life out of you cost us.
I bit every part of me within my reach, saved the pain deep in me.
The nightingale dried off and shrunk, they pulled it out of me,
but I will not give up on you.
How hard it was to bring you to life!
If it wasn\u2019t for your soul, I\u2019d call you my child.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tightly tie the rope around my neck
and tightly tie a knot to the rope that goes nowhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n