Hope Deserted by War

Yemenat

Ahmed Saif Hashed

Amal is a girl just shy of eighteen. She is spring and a flower… a beautiful dream that passed through here and never left… horses and knights triumph without war or casualties… a kingdom of love, a throne, and a queen… a crown and a sun… rituals of worship and devotion… a blazing passion, longing, and yearning.

Slender as a knight’s spear, yet softer than bamboo… I have always wished to be a vine that slowly climbs her in a journey of eternity, starting from the soles of her feet to reach the sun’s radiance… circling along her form from feet to waist until I reach her neck that calls to you, igniting fires, dispelling a thousand shadows, and illuminating a thousand paths.

I have always longed to kiss her to the point of merging, of perfection, in the depths of love… to pray in her rituals, in vigils, tarawih, and yoga… to circumambulate her neck as a devoted pilgrim in her realms until I reel in awe and wonder… to kiss her lips and travel in her soul to distant horizons… nothing is sweeter than being intoxicated by love until it lifts your spirit to the highest heavens!

Amal is a youthful Himyarite girl from Yemen… her beauty neither fades nor perishes… no matter how much beauty flourishes elsewhere, it remains incomplete without her… elegance is never fulfilled, no matter how extravagant, without the overflow of her enchantment… her grace captivates in a single glance… her waist a constant orbit, unyielding and eternal… your life, no matter how long, remains vibrant with the unaging, inexhaustible vigor of youth.

Her olive-toned skin is light with clarity, radiance, and allure… she enters the heart like a raincloud… her hair, dark and glossy, a net one wishes to