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When your soul returns to Ras Dashen

When your soul returns to Ras Dashen many years from now,

Time will stop to acknowledge your final descent.

Time will give no pardon.  Time will take no vow.

As a child again, you will walk through the land.

At the mountain foot olive trees are the same;

They were guarding your peace from below and above.

When the world seemed unfair – this is where you came,

This is where you...

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immigrationlifedeathphilosophicalEthiopia

What I Left Behind

My dreams locked behind

A thousand doors,

My genuine voice,

Life without remorse.

Self-portrait that’s free

Of the wrinkled despair,

Rhetorical questions

Of how and where.

Whimsical, drunken

Scent of the hope,

A love letter

Burnt in the last envelope.

I stepped on this land

And time ceased to exist.

Since then I had wondered

Whose image it is.

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immigrationlife purposenostalgia

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