Written by my daughter, Zafirah Zulkifli
October 2013
the little girl sits by the rubble
hugs her knees and begins to tremble
not from the cold that penetrates her bones
but from the fear of being alone
not from the hunger she’s gotten used to
but from the grief of missing the two
mama, baba..
in the place where they once were
is an eerie void that has come to greet her
amidst the explosions far and near
the smell of deaths intertwined with fear
though she calls them longingly over and over
their soothing voices she can no longer hear
as she attempts to block the unspeakable horror
and tries to mute their screams of terror
like a broken record on constant replay
they haunt her tender mind every night and day
the gush of blood that oozed her way
the red so vivid like it’s only yesterday
“mama baba, I only have one wish
wake up for me, just once, please”
but the words failed to escape her lips
drowned they were in her raw anguish
unfamiliar to her, their cold still bodies
as she kisses them her last final kiss
Yet ‘despair’ is a word she refuses to learn
lose hope she will not in a future uncertain
rob her childhood, her life, take em all away
but not her soul, her faith – they will not sway
“Alhamdulillah” she will often say
for faith in God and His ultimate plan
knowing that He will reunite them again
is the only thing that is keeping her sane
Kasih Ilmar 