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كنا في يوم رمز الحضارة والعلم هكذا يقولون  
اختلفنا وتشاجرنا وصار في قلبنا ملايين الظنون
ألم يكن نبينا رمز الأخلاق وديننا في القلب والعيون
تشردنا وقتلنا بفتنة لم تكن لتنتهي إلا وتبدأ مرة أخرى بجنون
لم اعد افهم سبب الشجار وصرنا نقول ألف مرة كنا ونكون
قلي من أنت أقول لك أنا إنسان هجر من وطنه عسى أن يجد حياة ويكون
ولكن يجب أن نبدأ من الصفر ألف مرة ونعيد ونكرر لعلهم يفهمون
ونتعلم أشياء ما كان من المفروض أن نتعلمها
ونصبح شيئا ولا شيئا ونضيع في عالم كبير غير محدود
هل تعيدني إلى حارتي وإلى كمبيوتري القديم المكسور
تعيدني إلى زمن كنا أخوة وكنا أصدقاء والحب يغمر القلب ويسهر الجفون
هل تعيدني إلى الزاهرة القديمة عندما كنت طفلا وأمسك الطبشور
هل تعيدني إلى بيتي في اليرموك وبيت جدي المليء بالعطور
هل تعيد لي روحي وشبابي وقلبي الدافئ الحنون
هل تعيدني حتى لا أكتب قصيدتي والتمس الخوف فيها لهذا اليوم
مع الأسف هذا نصيبي أن أكون جنديا في العلم أحصن نفسي من يوم أسود غير معلوم
لا أريد هذا أريد السلام لقلبي الميت وأريد عيونا مليئة بالدموع
أريد حبا حقيقية وأريد أن يبرد عقلي ويرتاح في هدوء
لا أريد أن ابحث عن حلول لمشاكل لا تنتهي أريد فقط أن أكون
هل هناك من يفهمني ويضع لي النقاط على الحروف
أعدني فأنا في هذا العالم غريب ومجنون
Ahmad Azzam Jun 28
I stood between black and white,
Not a prophet, not a ghost in the night.
My words were not sent from the skies,
But carved from pain, from unheard cries.

I thought the war chose me for a name,
That maybe I was called to rise from flame.
That maybe this voice was more than mine—
A whisper divine, a holy sign.

But silence answered every plea,
No angel came to speak to me.
And yet, the silence taught me more
Than any myth or tale of war.

I am no savior, no guiding light,
Just a soul who survived the night.
And in that truth, I found my ground—
No need for thrones, no trumpet sound.

My freedom came when I let go
Of needing more than I could know.
Between black and white, I found my shade:
A human heart, no longer afraid.
Ahmad Azzam Jun 26
A poem written in the middle of the night
With half a pen — no ink, no plastic cover
On the light of a flickering remains of a candle
No electricity, battery or internet buffer
To a stranger who might complete my world
Who in this life, she endure and suffer
Do you exist in this twisted ****** world
Or your blood is poisoned like others
Written in Syria 2012
Ahmad Azzam Jun 8
The First of Me

I want to return —
to become the better me.

These chains inside my soul
have held me down too long,
but I’m learning how to loosen them.

Something inside me
used to frighten me.

Now I look closer —
there’s a spark,
a start.

Can someone help me become whole?

I know I’m not the only one.
So many walk with silent cracks,
smiling through the ache.

We all feel alone sometimes —
but maybe we’re not.

I want to reach them,
just like I’m trying to reach me.

We are not broken.
We are becoming.

I believe I can heal.
I believe others can too.

We’ve been trapped in thoughts,
in noise, in work,
in fear.

But we are still here.
Still human. Still trying.

You can see it in our faces —
a quiet strength,
a shared hope.

I am not perfect.
Neither are they.

But maybe we don’t need to be.
Maybe healing begins
with simply being
real.
Ahmad Azzam Jun 8
Yes you’ve lost your mind trying every possible way and sometimes the impossible.
Overburdening me with obstacles in every f* corner but I am indestructible.
Unaffected by your vicious plans untouchable leave me be , is that really so horrible.  
Can’t you see the brightness in my eyes or the music in my heart yes remarkable.
And yet you insist to reflect your shallow soul and I will reflect mine unpredictable.
Neither you nor I wanted this but you chose to choke on your own blood bubble.
Take a fist on your sleepy eyes to wake up and I remember I warned you uncountable.
Blackness takes control now with open red eyes. Can you see the new me no longer humble.
Right and wrong are difficult to know in this word but I will never be inconsolable.
Eat now my destruction fury and hate till you suffocate till you endlessly mumble
Kiss my indecisive a** crack and in pain tumble. Your heart as mine will crumble.
Me is the ultimate solution. Take a closer look to my soul and problems will be simple
Discover the mini secret in this poem and tell me . Written by me in 2011.

— The End —