16/05/2026
INK WITHOUT BORDERS
Two pens met beneath a sleepless sky,
One wrote in rivers of Arabic light,
The other bloomed in soft English rain,
Yet both hearts understood the same night.
One bowed in prayer facing sacred dawns,
One sang hymns beneath cathedral glass,
Still friendship grew like a fearless tree
Whose roots ignored the borders men cast.
Across oceans, wars, and different names,
They traded metaphors instead of fear,
Teaching each other that every language
Can sound like home when the soul is sincere.
One wrote of deserts breathing in silence,
One painted mountains wrapped in snow,
But ink became their shared religion,
A place where kindness continued to grow.
When one was weary, the other replied
With poems stitched carefully through the pain,
Proving that friendship needs no passport,
No single faith, no bloodline, no chain.
And somewhere the moon read both their verses,
Smiling above each distant land,
For two writers from different worlds
Still built one bridge, word by word, hand in hand.
© FYANG LUCIKA
PHOENIX RENASCENT
17 MAY 2026
