The Hanif Souls / Poem

“Though dead I lay naked upon this narrow crest

Marooned from the minds of man, adrift

In the shallow wastelands of emptiness

I’m crowned by the woodlands of Sagacity and by ordinances, prohibitions of skin-duty

Wander through streets of savagery

Pondering my sins, failing, muscles weak

My dominion in death, in shadows in seas

Shall I find me twisted, ennobled in crux

A wretch am I hallowed by the winds

That from the last gasps of saints

Who though young, though innocent cease

By Flames of djinn and fearful mean

They will be restless, I tell you they will be restless!

Distinct from those who died in war

Shall come loudly upon my slumber

Twisted as daisies in spring, they shriek

Motioning toward their arrant prey

How glad am I that the dead cannot dream,

These children of the lion’s peace

Will force a covenant of heroes

From slumber, from decadence, from shadows to wash their ancestors in the Jordan of Liberty.”

Author: Tyrone Moore


-Brotherhood of Sincerity

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