A Civilization Dies (first poem to be reviewed)

[i.might.be.a.bit.sad]

Hello, everyone! This is my first poem on here. I actually wrote it last night. There's not really any meter or style, I just kind of wrote it free form. I would definitely consider it a first draft and would love constructive feedback. It's very personal but I would still like to edit it and make it better. Thanks for reading.



My face is pressed in earth,
In the plot I picked to bury my heart.
But here instead, I buried myself.
I surrendered to wait for the day of Judgement. <-- if you decide to go into present tense after this stanza, i would at least change the last lone of this stanza to present tense. It would help tie it in and make it seem less like a mistake.

I will stay here, I think.

Then suddenly a pair of strong hands raises me up.
They are calloused with time and work.
And then I hear a strong voice, with words sparingly chosen. <--the two "then"s don't work for me...i would change or take away one of them
I am pulled up from the ground. <-- you have already been raised up by this line. Repetitive.

“T3aa ya Noor. Follow me” <-- is the 3 a typo?

I cough, the air is thick with dust all around, <-- this line doesn't work for me. maybe "I cough trying to breathe in the dust all around" or something with different syntax.
But I can see the form of a man in front of me,
His face wrinkled and browned by the sun,
Harsh cheekbones protruding but kind eyes.<-- try to think of different ways to describe. Here, you are telling us that he has kind eyes above protruding cheekbones, but it would be a lot more vivid if you SHOWED us that his soft eyes sat above cheekbones that were trying to escape thier confining skin or something like that (not that, please. its horrible).

He raised me, and so I follow. <--saved? helped? something other than raised again
I am led through curving alleyways.
Cobblestones are blanketed with dust, the air thick with heat. <-- maybe try a synonym to dust here
I trip many times but over what I cannot tell.

Dead vines cover garden walls like barbed wire.
I can make out the remnants of tenements in rubble,
And ancient columns fallen on the avenue.
The man still walks ahead of me, so I run to catch up.

He stops.
The faint echoes of adhan and church bells pierce the silence. <--try to delete one of the the's from this line
Somehow the dust begins to clear the streets, <--again dust
And two figures approach.

Two children, a boy and a girl,
Their clothes are ragged, worn, and dirty.
They hold hands as they hop over heaps of rubble,
And come closer.

But to my surprise, they pass us without notice of our presence.
I turn to call out but then my voice chokes.
The girl turns over a body strewn across the street, checks the pockets. <--where did the body come from?? wouldnt the N have passed it if it is behind them?? im a bit confused here.
The boy picks up a nearby AK47, checks the bullets.

“What happened here?” I ask, holding back tears.
“Ya Ein Mulayyetein…A catastrophe happened…” he replies.

Suddenly the children are gone, vanished in the dusty haze.

“Wait. Where are they?”
He turns to me, “In Sham,… In Halab… In Homs… In Hama…In Raqqa… In Idlib… In Deraa… In Jannah…”
“Jannah? In heaven? How could this be happening here?” I shout at him. <-- if the kids disappeared and went to heaven, how does N know that here is heaven also? I would make this a little more clear. Are all the characters in heaven? Did the kids just die in the last stanza?

Disoriented, I know I cannot really be here.
I am a ghost but this is not the world of the living. <--this is really nice
I close my eyes, try to recall sweetness, warmth, memories, anything else. <-- try a more descriptive word than memories
But yes, this is Souriya.

“They destroyed everything.” I say with tears falling down my cheek.
He embraces me. I see pain in every line and crease of his face.
“Yes,” my father says “This is how a civilization dies”.

Hope I wasn't too harsh. I really like that you chose to write about this subject matter, as i have never seen a poem in these terms before. The image that come to mind, of heaven being a wasteland and destroyed, is powerful. I really loved the read. Thank you!