Ghost Dance

She had dreamed such as women, dreaming of life in the nest, spring, serenity, and the beauty of the children inheriting a spontaneous oriental shine...

Her dreams of the glory of knights, poetry, courage, and meeting.
The dream was behind the scenes, between the walls and under the sky, destroying all obstacles and killing her despair and death.

Breathing new life and she hears the sound, the echo is tearing the border and breaking limitations.

Who will wipe my tears and it shall take me forever and beyond to be taught the secrets of love is pervasive in deep down and being taught the poems and whispers that even inspired?

Who shall build my palace, my garden, and self, to save me from among the envious eyes, to plant my children tomorrow has to be the princess of the earth and the blessings of the Lord lead them to spring, the good and happiness of the witness and the right in a sea of darkness…?

Rebelling that caught my emotions on carrying me strongly, and eroding the fleshy feet does not carry an eternity and the joy of years of deprivation to announce surrender.

Put your arrow in my chest! Flirt! Vanity love all of the words, pour cups of passion and youth, and let me fed with my body and my heart sick, let me give up for love I was created, let me rip all restrictions, generations, and disability rights, let me be announced by the governor and the warden and enter the kingdom of love.

I know it may be cynical and hypocritical, creating an art of names and methods of scholars and wrong, but shame, and they shall enjoy my funeral party...

Let the light of day reveal the bats of darkness and destroy all the walls and expels fiddler dreams, and let me bid farewell to insects, let me in your hands and take me...

My resolutions....

Your prison is a haven, orchids, and the light of the universe…If all the thrones of the Earth are calling me, staring at me, eager to me and I may fail and destroy.

My resolutions...

Take me and save me from the curse of my walls and give me your hands from the door, take me and fly into space and serenity, I am your child, your friend, and your sweetheart, secrets of beauty and the treasures of time it makes me not your prisoner, deprive me of the longing and anxious wait…

My fields miss the rain, but the sky is clear...

Butterflies looking for flowers in the desert...

Child looking for his mother in the office of men...

Do not leave me to despair and grief, I am weak without your wings.

I want you to me, I want to breathe the air... I want, I want, I want....

The dream of it and will continue to hide all the notes and despair, love, and then whispering the same address, I want to be a woman like other women and the finest!

She writes notes; the days pass like lightning...

The bells of the spinster ringing and accumulating the years, I am writing my story and I ve not seen a taste of love, I looked for my rescuer which did not appear.

I feel compassion for myself and praying repeated and wondering, did not knock on the door! Did not show your loved ones, I despair and misery, and the story of a woman spinster...

They call me woman spinster with shame after they chained me preventing me to see and from being seen, and denied me access that I love and have been loved, or manipulating words in order to groom negligence in the shadows, I am the drought and field birds looking for water, shelter, and the mercy of the evening.

I am still an eastern women, I am beauty, harmony, illusion, and misery. I m a message in the bottle in Heaven and the joy of passion, lust, and dreams in the night and day, have all the rights to play on the strings and decision-makers, does not care about my presence and mine tend to my desires and of any human being, I m the goods at the time of loyalty which does not have any choice.

I still am waiting the honeymoon, despite all, and hear about all the weddings and nuptial forgotten.

Then take a rest on the pillow of perfumes, to hear a silence!

Sit down again and sleep terrors of ghosts and the lives of whites and raise her disgust, the nightmares and disturbing time. Becoming eroded and fall to the depths of despair to the well of darkness. Then remembered those days that have rejected all the wreaths and crowns, the past and hide her face cracked with fear, tears and fatigue.

Wipe the tears and take the silence and sip the yoke of loneliness and blame fate. Consider the day enter upon and turn the past and pardoned for such welfare lying in a corner of the house.

She lifted her head to the ceiling of the room in moments...

She said: “Lord, help me and forgive me, I pray for those who knock on the door, I forgot love, or do not even know that I love, I m hungry and do not even have bread, I am the moon in the day, and age at the time of harvest and the stars in secret and ink had dried from the complaint, do not let me down and have mercy upon those who trigger to hide, in the volcanoes’ hidden pot.

Tears and pray do not cure, I am the fire in the ash, my shadow and I stay a bit and will dance, the dance of ghosts.”
Hear the sporadic inspiration - trying breathe, to scream - cannot scream - or advocate, relax on the bed and watch the weak light of candle, and enters the dark eyes and feel her body chill, her eyes closed ,and sleep, extending her arm, and opening her hand while the memories fall.

Knocking, and entering without permission… is death.



Saif Ataya
[email protected]

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