Far from the earth
that once held my footprints,
the horizon looks wounded
as though the sun bleeds slowly into an exhausted sky,
nothing here feels complete
even the air pauses
before touching my skin
as if unsure whether I belong
to this land or to the memory
I keep carrying like a fading lantern.
Since distance has swallowed the routes that once led me home,
I move forward through the world like a burdened human being
and left wandering
between silence and longing
and sometimes I hear the wind whispering fragments of
a language I can no longer speak without trembling.
My homeland sleeps inside me, it curled like a child in a dark room and every night I listen
to its restless turning,
and the stars above mutter secrets of everything I have lost
and the moon leans low
as though it wants to console me but finds no word
heavy enough to hold my grief.
People look at me
as though I arrived with nothing
but the echo of a nation
that the world misplaced
then they say I am weight,
under no soil
yet they do not know
how the past clings to my ribs
like a silent oath
and the sigh I release everyday,
it carries the dust of another life.
If exile has a voice,
it speaks through my bones
who wanders farther each day,
but still remains forever tied
to his ancestral homeland.
About Shofiqure Rahman

Shofiqure Rahman is a 17-year-old Rohingya poet, writer and youth activist. He is from Myanmar but is now living in the Cox’s Bazar Rohingya Refugee Camp in Bangladesh. He is currently pursuing his bachelor’s degree in computer science at the University of the People. He has practiced his skills in poetry and gotten involved in activism from a very young age to restore the rights of his marginalised community.
Shofiqure Rahman is also the author of two poetry collections. His writings have appeared in international anthologies, magazines, newsletters and literary platforms through which he strives to illuminate the struggles of his people, and inspire peace across borders.

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