Beautiful Out of Emptiness<\/p>\n
A refugee\u2019s gaze, O Mustafa,
\nresting on the trunk of a palm,
\nseeking salvation, immortality,
\nin every shard of death\u2014
\nsearching for his lost art,
\nhis promised extinction.
\nHe whispers: When?
\nAnd my eyes are nothing but
\nthe swell of inhale, the fall of exhale.<\/p>\n
The rain\u2019s embrace does not sway him\u2014
\nwhy should it matter to me, Mustafa?
\nShall I care?
\nIs not hell, too, beautiful
\nwhen born from nothing?<\/p>\n
Unseen, unheard,
\nlight as dust borne on the wind,
\nhe drifts,
\nbrushed by the murmurs of existence.
\nHas he been saved, I wonder?
\nOr is hell not beautiful,
\nwhen born of emptiness?<\/p>\n
He sinks into tides of sand and foam,
\nthe seas starve,
\nand the waves cry out:
\n\u201cTell him the world,
\nlight and flame alike,
\nhas scattered\u2014
\nas if it had never been.\u201d<\/p>\n
And you and I, O my self,
\nwinds raging,
\nstill we wrestle for the land.
\nSo tell me, beloved,
\ndo you still hold fast to forever?
\nIs not hell beautiful,
\nwoven out of nothing?<\/p>\n
We fight for nothing.
\nWe live today only to die tomorrow,
\ndream today only to live tomorrow.
\nAnd now I dream of death itself.
\nDo I desire it?
\nYet nothing ever truly dies.<\/p>\n
You ask me: When?
\nAnd my eyes are but breath.
\nHere I am, exhaling the last.
\nYou ask: of what hell shall I speak?<\/p>\n
I tear out my eyes,
\nscatter illusion before the dawn.
\nI strip away my shadowed self,
\nrending the veil of eternity\u2019s lie,
\nbefore hope\u2019s shimmer ensnares me.<\/p>\n
Before I die today,
\nI choose to live one more day.
\nThe sun of tomorrow rises\u2014
\nyet still I linger, ghost of yesterday.<\/p>\n
Between the shades of grey,
\nI lost myself,
\nand with me, my hope.
\nI carried yesterday\u2019s sun into tomorrow\u2019s sky\u2014
\nand there, before me, truth unveiled:<\/p>\n
It is I\u2014Oda.
\nWipe from your eyes the despair of forever.<\/p>\n
And my tragedy whispers:
\n\u201cGive me your hand.
\nReturn what you have torn away:
\nyour eyes, and mine,
\nmy illusion, and your truth.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Beautiful Out of Emptiness A refugee\u2019s gaze, O Mustafa, resting on the trunk of a palm, seeking salvation, immortality, in every shard of death\u2014 searching for his lost art, his promised extinction. He whispers: When? And my eyes are nothing but the swell of inhale, the fall of exhale. The rain\u2019s embrace does not sway […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":8817,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":[],"product_cat":[141,142,22],"product_tag":[],"class_list":["post-8819","product","type-product","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","product_cat-installation-3","product_cat-le-salon-de-casablanca-2025","product_cat-installation","first","instock","shipping-taxable","product-type-simple"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/laplateforme55.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/product\/8819","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/laplateforme55.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/product"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/laplateforme55.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/product"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/laplateforme55.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8819"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/laplateforme55.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/8817"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/laplateforme55.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8819"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"product_cat","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/laplateforme55.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/product_cat?post=8819"},{"taxonomy":"product_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/laplateforme55.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/product_tag?post=8819"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}