The feelings at the “Blood Bank”
By Tarana Turan Rahimli
The smell of blood had settled
Both on the floor and on the ceiling.
There are pictures on the walls
Which are able to froze the blood in the veins.
On the other side of the window
Firstly the hopes
Then the prayers were falling.
It was possible to read from their appearance
What was inside of the people.
The destiny was weakening those
Who were in need of blood.
The heart of the doctor
Who was visiting the patients
Had run over.
Named as thalassaemia and haemophilia
Were thirsty for the blood.
The fates that was riding
On the halter of the death
Were at a step’s distance to the death angel.
The hopes that were not sowed were growing
My God, what purgatory is it?
Here a grave and blood
Are on the eye of the scales
For the first time in my life
I saw the color of the grief
On the face of a baby
Who was unaware of its grief.