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Albalooshi
Poetry Collection
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My Father Was a Drunken Fool
I then became a firestorm. I then became the slithering voice.
Shehab Albalooshi
Beauty Has Come to Lament Your Name
How hideous and ghastly, it has succumbed.
Shehab Albalooshi
I Am Become Your Tomb
I am the wasteland. I am the many graveyards of men.
Shehab Albalooshi
There Is No Beauty
No beauty in a signal when it has been lost to the noise.
Shehab Albalooshi
Insipid Beasts Buried in the Snow
And sang ourselves oblivious, whilst flickering in the vast void of darkness.
Shehab Albalooshi
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