The State of Lapis Lazuli

They leave a country riven
For the contours of an airplane,
Within which they will make –
Rivers of tears, radiant with gems
Of grace sudden and deep as pain;
Peaks of rocky hope, high as the Paghman;
And earth embroidered, like the shawls of women.

The sky shall shelter the fleeing
For hours in borderless heavens,
Making the unrepressed, a model state
For trusting, handholding nations.

– Bolbul