He Steals

He steals

I build anew,

and he steals the new…

Who’s he?

My inner enemy

Who grew so enormous

That I needed an army

to defeat

so I can grow!

© K. Leeban

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A violin played in violence

violin

A violin played in violence

That’s what you made me,

That’s how you connected with me,

Lord!

Your violin,

Your violence!

Play another tune,

For I am tired

Of my tears

Better yet,

Play another instrument

Oh, my Violent Musician!

© K. Leeban

And what becomes of religion?

While led by men,

Its purpose to control

Free from questioning

Tied to a region

And time.

Abandoned by the free

And the thinkers,

It becomes confined.

And when those who find themselves in confinement,

Break the chains

For they prayed for a bread

Kneeling for the Lord’s mercy…

It never came,

They, too, will stand…

Then religion will be read in the history pages

Confined to past civilisations

In the same way as the Seven Wonders

And we will wonder…

About what they saw!

© K. Leeban

Homeless, I roamed

Homeless, I roamed…

I’ve been homeless for most of my life…

How?

You may ask…

What’s a home? I’d say…

It’s belonging,

It’s love!

And that’s why I’ve been homeless.

As a homeless soul

I roamed

In searched for a home…

Bags packed,

I travelled foreign lands

From Rome to Ramallah

I roamed.

I scanned different faces

In cafes,

For a place I can call home,

And I went from a place to place

From a face to face

In search for home

Until I found home

Because I knew that home is not a house

Or a place

But a heart

Where one belongs…

© K. Leeban

Samara Smiled…

Etched across her face was a smile

That matched the sun on the brightest day

‘Happy Samara,’ they would say

Friends and foes alike,

Were treated to it.

Concealed behind that smile

Was a world that would have you running miles

But what they saw was, ‘Happy Samara’

For her smile matched the sun on the brightest day

That’s how Samara faced the world,

With a bright smile.

© K. Leeban

Child of Cruelty

Hey Child of Cruelty,

What has become of you?

Pain!

How do you cope?

I self-medicate…

Sometimes I’m high dancing with the angels,

Sometimes I’m so high,

That I think I am an angel!

But then I am PAIN, PAIN, PAIN!

And what has become of you?

I became a source of pain

And you?

I became the master of pain and ruled the oceans!

Hey Child of Cruelty,

What has become of you?

I went to prison and became a number.

And you, oh Child of Cruelty?

I loved Cruelty,

And you?

I saw and loved pain,

Oh, and you?

I chose to leave Cruelty and become dust

And you?

I searched the globe for love and found myself!

© K. Leeban

The Broken Shall Not Bow

So, you came to establish yourself
On my ruins,
To glorify yourself in the homes of the broken,
the reason for their despair.
But they will no longer bow,
Only respect
The power so mighty
Yet still sees strength within they
For they will no longer bow to tyrants
Above,
Yet below,
As to stoop to the homes of the broken,
Demanding glory,
For we are broken
and don’t know what glory is!
So come down
As lower
So we may glorify you
We don’t know how to bow to the high,
We have never reached this height!

© K. Leeban