My home

I Went out with some friends to mark some moments on the slate of memory. I stood to introduce myself and i was ushered with some smiles that assured me of walking on waters. I met inviting shoulders, willing to cool the nervousness in my spine. The assembly erupted into cheers like it was a 94th minute Iniesta magic against chelsea. I jump in haste and said ' good morning all. I love and would always love to be here. My name is Bala.'

That was just it; the ice breaker.
Their cool glass of water immediately turned to sour wine. I can taste the bitterness of their heart on my tongue.
Vengeance and bitterness overshadowed the inviting smile.
The cheers was covered by a thick cloud of silence.

I am paying for the sins i never did. Yes, the name "Bala" and regret of the doings of my land.
My sweet home is now a desolate desert.
My name devouring my respect and reputation.
They ignore that "Bala" is just a label and not the quality.
Yeah!!!!! I get it. It ain't their fault.
Because, at the mention of this name lies, lives, deception, and destruction are the echoes.

Oh!!! North. Are you proud of the things you've done?
You've become a terror and horror instead of the "Home of Peace."
A slave nursery instead of a "liberal state".
Although, you are tagged "the young shall grow," you deprive the young of their milk and doom their stars.
Is this the meaning of "state of the caliphate?"
Does it mean devouring your brothers as prey?

#poeticnest
#mamas_laws
#OhMyHomeFB_IMG_1516606195252.jpg

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