A sparrow is Telling lies

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A sparrow is Telling lies

On the wreckage of the home waiting for its murdered people… a sparrow is telling lies
On the segregation wall standing on words… a sparrow is telling lies
On the tight rope upon the horizon of exile… a sparrow is telling lies
On the martyrs’ graves
on the sigh
on a broken weeping
on the wailing of prayers
a sparrow is telling lies

He picks a cracked twig from the olive tree trunk when the tree is hit with a few bullets
He builds a nest in an abandoned window
And he lies in the morning
He pecked the wind
and truth ran through the punctured wind
He throws a honeycomb of melodies for the approaching hunter
and sings for bullets rushing towards him
Do not lie sparrow
How do you sing for death in my presence
Look at your tunes in the branches and above the windows of those who have survived
Spiders’ cobwebs are entangled to obtain pollen out of wisdom
Your melodies are like cotton poisoned with the wind’s wound
Lie sparrow
for music has become a stone in the way
Lie sparrow
for my life has turned into a lie
Lie
I need a little lying… that I may write.
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@amartohamy