In the ancient city of Antakya,
I felt the wind of the Mediterranean,
The whistle of the wind,
Accompanied by the brilliant usage of internet,
Made my travel even more worthy.
My travel was rather special,
It comprised of a book and a computer,
I had a feeling of teleportation,
Like I was airlifted from Malaysia,
To the safe hands of the Turks.
It was a place of glamorous history,
Now overshadowed by the city of Iskanderun,
Nobody liked nobody without history;
So exalted be Antakya,
Where Turks lived in harmony with Arabs.
It used to be called Antioch,
Where the Christians revered over the name "Christian" itself,
However history always changes,
And Antakya it had become,
And never be the same again.
I took a sip of coffee,
And marvelled over the bedazzling ruins,
As a God-fearing nation,
Turkey knew what would stay will still stay,
And only Future can tell its direction.
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50 Poetry for a Happy Soul
ПоэзияNeed to feel relaxed out of the crazy schedule? Or simply need to lie down and enjoy a good read? Come here and read from this guy who has a dream of travelling the world in his poetry. Wow, that is cool😁
