Monday 21 April 2008

The Lady of Afghanistan, Art and Poetry







She's standing there with a dirty face

Then she was gone without a trace

You can't say the worlds a better place

For she's just, one of a great race


And in her eyes so very pale
A look of heaven or of hell
I guess no one could truly tell
For no one looked beneath the veil


Too see in her face only pain

For no one even knew her name

Or from what lonely place she came
No shame, for no one was to blame


She looks down on the valley green

On beauty that has always been

'O why am I treated so mean
In a world that is so serene?'
Said the Lady of Afghanistan



As the evening shadows grow

Of those eternal mountains so
Without a voice or choice, she goes
But where she goes, nobody knows



For they move just like little sheep

Where the mountains are so steep
Among the ruins of the heap
Where no one ever sows or reaps
'If only I could have some sleep'
Said the Lady of Afghanistan



And in the shadow of the night

Great armies fight with all their might

For God and for the peoples rights

She has no dreams of sweet delight



And as the morning sun breaks through

Upon the early morning dew
Everything begins as new
But will her broken dreams come true

Is she any different from you?

The Lady of Afghanistan.




2 comments:

lethalverses said...

oh, is she really different from us?

...great, great lines. and impeccable rhymes and choice of words.

and i must say, these paragraphs bring chills to my spine. what a talent you have there.

Paula said...

Great poem. I wish the sketch was in color though.