Shaham Farooq

Considering it’s the past that he still sees
How can you expect that he still sleeps? 

He can find other ways to fill his chest
If the blood from his heart still seeps 

What’s with the confidence, it’s pathetic
Even without the light, the mirror still gleams?    

Be it blessing or curse, it is extraordinary,
How the tortured prisoner still breathes 

They’ve forbidden sleep, but is it true?
I hear that even now, Shaham still dreams