Lucile (Part I)

Lucile felt something gush through her body painfully rousing her from her sleep. Screaming, she fell off her bed and crawled underneath it. There was the smell of something burning. She panted underneath and slowly raised the edge of her covers. Her room was no longer dark, comfy and welcoming as it had been when she went to bed.

No. it was bright; so bright, as if the sun itself were sitting at her dressing table and enveloping the entire room with its rays. Her eyes hurt and became watery.

The odor of something burning, or rather the stench of burning skin, filled her nostrils. She screamed as the light seared her skin. She retracted further underneath the bed.

Someone was trying to kill her in her sleep; someone who knew that she was a sun-hider, a night-walker, a Vampire.

Pandora

Pandora

Sweet Pandora

Thou hast opened thy box

And ailed us all!

My land, once green and fruitful,

Now becometh a wasteland;

Once ahead of its time,

Now falleth into the abyss!

My people once giving and caring,

Now selfish and greedy;

Once the pioneers of the world,

Now poor, uneducated and illiterate!

My heart, once filled with love,

With curiosity, with a thirst for knowledge,

Now it lieth in my chest

Like an idle stone…

Pandora,

Thou hast opened thy box of ails,

Now open it more

And let Hope flow and soar!

Let the light embrace us all

And wash away our sins;

Let love revive our hearts,

And unite us all.

Let peace forever roam;

Let our land rise once more!

Written Wednesday, 25^th of April, 2012.

Black

Black

Black is nice,

Calm and understanding

But always,

Misunderstood.

Black:

Dark, demonic,

Dangerous, deadly…

Black,

It envies

Red and blue,

White and green,

For they are called

'lively', 'vibrant',

'bright', 'colourful'.

But Black is black;

Always misunderstood.

Masquerade by Nada Adel Sobhi - Poem

Vibrant, chic dress,

Gems sparkling in the night,

Dressed to impress,

To catch sight.

She enters the ballroom;

Her face you cannot see,

Like a flower she blooms;

Tonight, your princess, she'll be.

Of gold, of red and of green,

Of many colours is her mask,

Of blue, of silver, even aquamarine;

To dance, her, you want to ask.

Her face you cannot see,

Who is she?

A mystery!

Your princess, she'll be.

You dance; you look into her eyes,

An enigma she remains;

At the end you bow and rise,

To see her disappear in flames.

She vanished as she had come;

Taking your breath away.

For the night, she was the one,

In the end, the butterfly-masked girl fluttered away…

Her face, you did not see,

Her name, you did not catch;

A creature, a mystery

That none can solve nor catch!