Family · Jahilia

Precious Stones

Daggers dart out of the skies,
Blades batter the trees.
Fire spreads like hatred,
Icicles slice like jealousy.
Gunmen fire their pistols
Angels whip their leashe.
Each has a target, and they’re all aiming at me.

My head was low, my body hung,
I saw their aim, I read their thoughts,
I geared myself up for what they never thought.
A million devils all chanting my name.
They wanted me weak, their thoughts sung.
But they never knew me to lead,
this war just begun.

I relaxed, waiting for my army.
The men Allah had assigned to do this job for me.
I knew I was safe with my men of steel,
They’d go to world’s ends to silence my fear.
But I called and cried, no reply came.
Who has led my protectors away?

I had to battle, no sword, no shield.
A field of haters, and an empty field.
I stood as I noticed I was alone.
My protectors have left me,
I never believed they’d go.

With the spiders in my stomach,
this clichéd poker face,
I brace my self.
The world against me.

Then one knight rides across,
“I’ll be your army”.
And with a wrap of his arms, the icicles melt away.
The fires burn out, the gunmen run away.
And he holds me there for what feels like a day.
Just kissing all the evils away.
And with my new protector,
I feel safe.

Sad loss to the boys that discard their duties.
Don’t they know that precious stones,
If not guarded,
are stolen?

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