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# System prepended metadata

title: Alan

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# Alan

It so beautiful
to close my eyes
When the world turned
theirs away from me.
Sometimes the river of past
brings rippling memories 
rushing through my eyes.

That serene valley where I ran,
that vast sea of flowers
and those gentle waves of breeze;
It is all lost in tides 
of blood and flesh.
The worn-out holy book remains,
rest everything has changed.

Some deep haunting eyes
Strange and filthy dark, 
cut and dried with bloodless nerves,
buried with venom, wafted after me.
In the dark trench of time
only those twinkling eyes of my mother,
remained as a pivot of love.

Yet, behind that gaze
brimming with love,
were shades of despondence 
I did not know.
We set out on a voyage 
to escape from those quaint preaching 
and screams back at home,
With no reason to show.

We sailed on the shoulders of Poseidon
to escape from the trees
with apples of discord
and the greedy eyes of Eris.
These people around me,
strangled and shackled by fate,
sailing in this endless blue desert
with coins of pain and grief.

We headed towards
the horizon of hope shelter-
to plant a seed
under the soft soil lying
somewhere far far away.
To live among safe, innocent eyes
and not among fair-weather ones.
To see, feel that soft, warm sunshine 
again, once more, to smile fearless.

Under the tight caring embrace
of my mom, I close my eyes
for forty winks.
Never to open them again.
Even Poseidon didn’t save us.
He spat me away with the last 
piece of wood I held upon
and left me washed on a deserted shore.

I did not know
we crossed the river of Rubicorn
a journey for life
without a return.
Only after I faced the music of fate
the world ran towards me
to shed few crocodile tears,
to get down to the brass tacks.

With my soul freed
I close my tired eyes, peacefully
from this hollow, meaningless world
to open them to eternity.
My name is scribbled down everywhere,
engraved on every pebble,
giving birth to a short legend.

A small story
that was retold to 
every innocent soul
blinking for the first time,
a story that shook cradles.
Those tender souls
with warm tears
craving for a good world 
took my fable in their heart.

The world calls me
‘Aylan Kurdi.’
whose feeble eyes igniting
in this darkest time,
to show them the
crooked and gargoyle reality.

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