Phoenix of Democracy
On the assassination of Benazir Bhutto
By Maha Noor Elahi
Soaring she came
In colors of life;
Green, red, fuchsia, and white
Shrouded in a vain smile…
Veiled by modest buoyancy …
To make a difference …to implant life
In a terrain of uncertainty.
She was a phoenix of an undesired legacy;
A phoenix of democracy…
In a realm of censored minds.
Her mythical shades
Were too bright
For their coffined braids;
Instead of light,
She only steered rage.
Her wings were stained
By corruption claims;
“She’s an agent…she’s a spy…
Her cause is just a jive.”
Stereotyped motives they have devised…
Creating an alibi to take her allure.
And so…soaring she left ….in one hue;
Ascending red_ the color of demise.
She died embroidered with martyrs’ pride,
Scornfully believing that
Figures of injustice survive
While legends remain alive,
And other phoenixes from ashes shall rise.
December 28th, 2007