(Photo: Solmaz Vakilpour)
Woman, why you cry?
Because of darkness I feel on my heart,
as my soul is imprisoned and
my body is covered by fear of freedom,
where I can’t trace my road or
feel the desire of fly as I wish,
what never see is endearment or a
little smile giving me hope and
in the road of men I’m that thing that breathes
but as no voice, unless the scream of pain
because I’m no existence, I have no power
and my only rights are cook and fuck, as my body
is a bed where selfish thought of man can forget his sins
while my dark soul cry silently the body movements,
full of rage and sadness until the fire consommes
my last moments of joy and the sun announces a new day
repeatedly made by the sound of hands, belt or stick
and slowly I felt in silence in a black box where vision lost
passion and passion become tears of hate as my desire is dying
and my dreams are becoming death.
Why I cry?
Because I have no wings!