Bound in chains,

Imprisoned in a cage,

Inside a jail,

It’s the making of her own mind,

her own fears, her own lies.

Her ghosts binding her to the walls,

oh her insecurities and to the demons that called.

Locked up inside her head,

Yearning for freedom instead.

And the music.

The music of her own cries and screams.

Her own compositions. Her own melodies.

And she danced.

Danced to the beat of her screams.

Moving, twirling, dancing for sweet relief.

Moving with beautiful grace,

With tears streaming down her face.

A slave to her ghosts, insane.

Moving faster and faster, breaking the chains,

Of her fears, unafraid,

Yearning for a breath of freedom.

Moving faster, turning to run.

To the door, it stood ajar,

Heaving with energy, it wasn’t too far.

And she danced,

the music to her like alcohol,

putting her on edge, so fast, she’ll fall.

And she did.

Once she shot out the door.

Fell high,

With freedom, rejoicing in liberation, and she cried.

On the floor she weeped.

Letting herself shatter now that she could breathe.

So she laid her head on the floor, weeping, waiting to dream,

And was taken by angels into a deep endless sleep.

– Hiba.

This poem is about a girl who’s suicidal.

Now HOLD you horses! Or your… I don’t know, dogs or puppies or whatever it is that you’re trying to unleash on me. Hold it for a moment and let me explain.

The girl in the poem is suicidal. She’s stuck inside a room, which is actually the world and the chains are her own negative thoughts. So she feels imprisoned in the room i.e. the world due to the chains i.e. her negative feelings. And she’s so possessed by those thoughts, so thoroughly convicted, that she cannot see the other pleasures in the room. For example, there was a window there through which you could see the stars. The stars are people who enlighten you and guide you and give you hope. But since the poem is in the girl’s perspective, she couldn’t see it. All she could see was her fear of life. And the door that stood open was death. It was open because death is open to you. You can always choose it. You have the choice. It’s a fact. So it’s open and often, inviting. Not closed. And her dancing, is a depiction of her following her thoughts that sound like music to her. Because that’s how it is. Negative thoughts fill your senses, just the way music does. It makes you wanna dance move, act, even just drum your finger to the beat at least. That’s how negativity is. It makes you wanna act on it. And it’s like alcohol. You drown in it, you soak it in your veins, you let it control you.

Now this poem isn’t about the wise. It sin’t about the patient. It’s about those people that just choose death because they’re plagued by their own ugly thoughts. They’re victims to their own negativity.

I don’t support suicide. I never did, I never will. There are always the stars. Always the people who guide and help.

You’ve gotta stop looking at the door. Sometimes, look at the window. Either you’ll see the stars, waiting to guide you, or you’ll see clear bright paths ahead of you visible due to sunlight. And maybe if you’re lucky, you might even see a rainbow. But then again, a rainbow only comes after heavy rains.

Be strong and be beautiful and be the stars to someone else.

Take lots of care and stay beautiful. Get help if you need it. There are people who live to help you. Talk to them.

– Hiba.

P.S.: Actually, on second thought, I wouldn’t mind the puppies. Unleash ’em all you want. A little Husky would be good. :3


36 thoughts on “Dance.

  1. You know what I loved about this poem? It’s the tempo. It was slow at the beginning with the chains representing almost a static scene. Slowly the pace picked up. The dancing then carried it to a feverish pitch, before it came to a sudden halt again.
    I don’t know if it was intentional on your part, but this is how I felt.
    Your explanation was good too, although I didn’t feel the need for it (which is only a personal opinion, by the way).

    1. Yeah it was sort of intentional… The tempo. I deliberately picked up pace with the dancing bit until she fell.
      Thanks, Ershad. 🙂

  2. Wow hiba.. kia kha ri ho ajkal? Anyways brilliant theme.
    Give you an advice? Do not explain your poems or yourself. Let the reader think what he wants. Never explain. Explanation kills the peom.

    1. I didn’t ask you what do you do but congratulations we belong to the same field. Good luck with FIA 🙂 do acca and then give me a job in your team 😀 ok? Ok.

      1. I think the problem is that we hardly come across such people. They’re rare, Maria, but they’re there.
        And how? Honestly, I don’t know. They’re a making of God and a gift. Like the stars. 🙂
        And they don’t come to you, Maria. You have to go to them. Anyone you see capable of shining and guiding, you go to them. The stars don’t refer to humans. Humans refer to the stars. You’re the one seeking hope. And maybe it’s only a matter of looking around… they’re probably already there.
        And it can also be that God’s making you wait for them a little longer, so that when you finally find them, you’ll know their value.
        And yet, if it gets difficult, I think the best solution is our mother. I’m so so glad that we’ve got Eastern Muslim mothers. They’re literally the best in the world.

      2. Yes, maybe. A making of God and a gift. 🙂 I get your point.

        There does come a time though, when one finds no one. And it hits so bad. But it ends too.

        Anyway. What you said about our moms: yaaas. 😃 Alhamdulillah for the stars.

    1. And maybe that’s why you’ve gotta pay more attention to things other than your thoughts.
      You’ll hear far better things. 🙂

    1. I’ll get to your post Insha Allah, in a while. 🙂
      Thanks so much for your feedback. It’s nice to have you on my blog 🙂
      And your comments are making my day. 😀

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