The fire pierced my soul
by Ahtaram Shin
Every single span of life turns into a new calamity.
Each dawn unveils a fresh haze before my eyes;
Sleepless nights in the red cosmos flames.
All the ages screaming "Ya Rab" in escape,
After the end of each season,
I found my limbo in the dust of ash.
We are losing everything from the state of nothing!
Only to save a life,
My life got at unrest,
And need to combat death everyday.
Ah fire, t do you shed my tears
Let breath in a terrible fear?
In life's journey,
I walked through a different path unknown,
Wandering far until my strength was overthrown.
Exhausted, I halted, unable to press on,
The incomplete journey, I admit with a dawn.
In the limbo of fire,
Seven years have swiftly flown,
Yet, I find you in a familiar broken tone.
Destiny defined upon my furrowed brow,
Without a earnest try,
I expected to beg the liberty in free now.
It is what it is, a meaningless life's tale,
Just a sale of existence, without avail.
Narrative of the poem: In the hearts of Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh, flames rage—not just the literal fires that threaten their makeshift shelters, but also a metaphorical blaze fuelled by fear and loss. Amidst this chaos, the echoes of hardship, victimization, and despair blend with the crackling of relentless fires. 'Our desires are modest,' they whisper in the shadow of adversity, 'not for luxury, but merely to survive another night enveloped in sorrow.' Despite enduring a long history of marginalization, the scent of justice remains elusive, its significance seemingly diminished on the global stage. Among the ashes, their pleas for help pierce the silence, a call to the world to witness their plight. From the depths of destruction, a critical message emerges: attention must be paid!"