By Lilia Ben Mansour - Tunis
Many stories I had to tell
For years in peace I used to dwell
How on a single violet night
My pleasure can become my plight
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Robbed of all bliss and happiness
I saw a warm approaching light
From a spectral lady in white
But untrue her presence appeared
A dreamt figure that I once feared
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A murky touch of wickedness
Yet on her garments roses bloomed
With delicate hands she was groomed
She reached down through the silver mist
With tender fingers touched my wrist
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She ascended in graciousness
Her lit trail I began to seek
In the shadows till I grew weak
An urge inside I could not fight
On each leaf I began to write
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Of my damnation and madness
I’m cursed with this devilish spell
This grim bind I cannot repel
Of peace of mind I am deprived
Despite my plight I have survived
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Must I suffer this wretchedness?
Ignorant are these sightless eyes
Of truth written in starless skies
No good or harm she meant to me
She’s my soul that longed to be free
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Free of this smothering darkness
Of freedom I began to think
It only took a little drink
From a stream at a mountain top
That flows with light in every drop
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A history of nervousness
In legends whispered you have heard
Of fates played with a single word
Grim fortune for the young and old
Careless hands that weave strings of gold
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Dreary sisters of fatefulness
Or in stories from ancient times
One oblivious of his own crime
Of ponds that rest in flowery beds
Of words of love ignored when said
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And heedless streams of selfishness
For years watch as the dreams pass by
And those above lust for your sigh
A sin can never be redeemed
No words were uttered just it seemed
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The human kind shown no kindness
Their lives faint as a fading flame
Meek they become in fortune’s name
No past, present or future known
Nothing can ever be their own
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Deprived of minute willingness
Oftentimes I wonder about
The shame that I disclosed no doubt
I could sail to the farthest seas
That if I want I can be free
Free of this stifling absurdness
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