By Haikal Mansor

In the world of hopelessness,
And of the misguidedness;
In the darkness of eternity,
And of the inhumanity;
In the wells of violence,
And of the sound of silence;
A vision was softly planted in my brain,
Where more than a million of us Rohingya remain.

I woke up creeping,
While others were sleeping.
I thought of chronic nightmares,
that the ghost of terror often stares.
The vision was talking without speaking,
I was hearing without listening.

It said, “Hello friend, I am your hope”,
And whispered the sound of hope –
“I may not have a home, a wealth, a wing and a voice,
I possess a life, a soul and a body of choice.
I am a caterpillar.
I will transform into a butterfly no similar,
Exhibiting my wealth and health
In my wings of no stealth.
My world doesn’t end.
I will fly you to the world’s end.”

I replied, “Dear friend, my wings are tied,
My legs are calcified,
My beauty, faith and body become laughable,
And my soul in a state of insoluble.
My world is the sheer darkness.
I was born into bleakness and will die as nothingness.
I have nothing to share,
And no one dares to care.”

“Fool!” said hope. Cancer grows out of hopelessness and silence.
You are made of resilience.
I am the seed that grows strong,
And alive in the cocoon all along.
Now brace the strength,
And break the treads of steel-like strength.
In the nakedness, embrace for the beauty,
Fly to the world of light, tolerance, safety and dignity.
Contain the world in your scope.
“Friend”, it is about for the dawn of hope.