Xaliimo’s Death Wish


Where art thou?

She questions

A mother whose life is on the brink

As she toils at her last moments,

she remembers what her life was once upon a time.

Peaceful moments, and a coolness erases her despair.

Then she remembers the last few decades,

2 to be exact.

Synonymous to a horror movie, horrendous and despicable.

A woman fighting her own evils.

Internal and external, war on both fronts.

Where to go?

Unable to move, left with 6 mouths to feed and no man to defend and protect.

Questionable, you say

He left years a go, fought along side the militia

To protect and to honor was the code,

he died in the process.

No need for tears or grief she reminds herself.

She is a mother and the backbone regardless if Farah was home.

War ravaged city,

the land of death and blood.

No tragedy in the world can compare.

Mogadishu- once was.

The Utopia of Africa.

The idolized nation, now

a nation feared- a failed state.

Minutes are ticking, and quickly turning into the last seconds of her life.

Xaliimo prays for the less fortunte, the ones like her who lived their lives

praying for peace and hoping that one day,

Somalia will be ONE.

She wishes and pleads to the Diapsora and the millions of other Somaalis,

Do not forget  your land, and the duty to your people.

May Allah have mercy on my family and the Somali people.

Assalamu Alaykum Wa Rahmatullahi Wa Barakatahu.

Her last utterance thereof was:

There is no God but Allah, and Muhammad is his messenger.


16 thoughts on “Xaliimo’s Death Wish

  1. Pingback: Thursday Poets Rally Week 29 (Sept 23-29) | Jingle

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  3. Wow, I loved this. It sounds personal and really highlights what is going on in that area of the world. I hope that one day Somalia will be ONE.

  4. i really really love it.
    very much inspiring.

    I hope people from war-ravaged countries like Somalia continue on hoping for a better future and I hope peace can come fast to these nations.


  5. Pingback: Fabulous Treats In Poetry (Highlight of Thursday Poets Rally week 29 Poetry) | Promising Poets' Parking Lot

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