\
Grief’s tap runs free, my eyes – no coin required,
For Sakhr’s sake, a boundless freshet’s worth.
Sleep, an exiled neighbor, dares not near,
Grit-kissed, I watch the stars, unbidden guest.
My tattered shawl, a shroud for shivering soul,
While comrades fall, beneath the desert’s breath.
His arm, a rampart for the faltering friend,
No lion’s maw more fierce in battle’s mesh.
Where bridled fire-manes snort a savage hymn,
He, leopard-swift, outstrips the sting of death.
Though dawn denies the echo of his name,
His song, a desert wind, whispers his fame.
:: 12.21.2023 ::

December 23rd, 2023 at 8:06 am
Nice post ✉️
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