Descended and 1 other poem
Ancestral blades carve a cruel shame. Entrenched patriarchal structures ignite grief and…
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From Matchbox
We Are Here: Writings by Afghan Women
Descended
My fingers bleed from ancestral blades; their glorious legacy collapses into ultimate shame and cowardice.
September 22, 2025
It may have been my ancestors
who held the blade,
but my fingers are the ones that bleed
from the consequences of their violence.
It may have been my ancestors
who wrote history as conquerors,
but one cannot build an empire
without drowning in the blood of innocents.
It may have been my ancestors
who sought glory and power,
but it is I who watches their legacy
collapse into weakness and failure.
It may have been my ancestors
who were feared for their valour,
but I watch their sons hide behind
their shields of cowardice, and
sacrifice their daughters while
playing the role of the doting
father and brother, who wish
for all women to be free–but only
if the woman belongs to the
house of their neighbours.
It may have been my ancestors
who are remembered as heroes,
but as I watch their descendants,
I see no heroism.
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Zahra Fatimie
Zahra Fatimie was born and raised in Kabul, Afghanistan, and now resides abroad. Zahra posts her poetry on her social media. She has been published by Coffee and Conversations, Flash Phantoms, and Exquisite Death for both poetry and short stories. She is also the editor and co-founder of an online magazine, Zartaar Lit.