11 February 2011

Tahrir Square spread the air of freedom all over Egypt. I can breathe freedom amid all the chaos due to the disappearance of police. 


I look now at the empty streets of Alexandria, where there is no action except for the tired cars who are back from celebrations all over Alexandria. I tilt my heavy head up to look at the dark sky. What I see is a dream. A dream of Utopian change.


An Egyptian, successful, peaceful revolution that gave me hope can turn to be magical. This is what I am hoping for. 


11 February 2011 is a great combination of freedom for Egypt.   

Egypt, a dying woman

I see doom dancing everywhere I look, looking defiantly back at me. It is the sense of loss. The end is near, but what shall this end be like? fire, death, shame, rage. Egypt is dying like an old woman, daggers slice at her thick skin viciously. Hyenas' eyes glisten as they gather to gnaw at her dying body. Egypt is collapsing. 


Where did all this anger come from? Like a volcano that ravishes everything. Die Egypt, maybe one day others with resurrect you, better people. Sane people. 


Long swords are ready to shed more and more blood. But, till when? At some point her body, Egypt's body will lose it all. Death laughs at every corner of the picture. Loudly. 


I am death. I am blind. Tomorrow is blacked out. Slowly, everything will end. Cry you hypocrites, shed more tears. Laugh you haters, with your red broken teeth. And me, Egypt, I am dying, slowly, silently.