"It would be good if all my main writers can get some exposure." Abdullah Ayaz writes to me. He sounds protective of his group, like a big brother taking care of the lot of them.

Abdullah Ayaz, otherwise known as Hibbed, is a rapper and poet. He is the creator of a poetry site, Unspoken Hymns, where authors share poetry, lyrics, thoughts and photography. The poets on the site also battle it out to see who will take the lead on the site. "Some awesome poets to check out are Nameless Writer, Sarah Usmani, and WArdah SArdar," Ayaz writes. "Dont tell people i said that  =P." He jokes that he doesnt want to complement the other writers openly because the battle is a crucial part of Unspoken Hymns. It gives it that underground-hip hop-rap battle-urban feel that makes it so unique.

While it seems strange for a site to comment on another site, it is only a reflection of the shape art is taking in the 21st century. Everything is linked and everyone is networking online, including Ayaz, who is using the site to publicize his new album, called "Nothing. But a Slave."

There's a warning on the site that informs listeners that they are about to listen to "mature content." It also informs readers that they should "not listen to more than 2 tracks in one sitting, only because most people lose concentration by then." 

It makes you snicker at first. But, you soon find out that it's a very appropriate warning. The lyrics are deep and a lot to handle. Ayaz sends me a track called "Grown". I find myself replaying and pausing certain sections, taking down lyrics; nodding along with the ideas he's putting out.

It's all acapella, but the chorus is harmonized. Hibbed's voice sounds like K'naan, and the lyrics are conversational and decidedly angry, like a very young Eminem, circa the Infinite album. The drawl at the end of his sentences is reminiscent of late comedian Mitch Hedberg. But he's still just Hibbed.

"You know, when I was a kid, my parents looked into my eyes and gazed into their own dreams./ Mamma would always cook veggies because meat was too expensive, while trying to pay off our high school fees./ And I remember/ savoring the sips of Pepsis at parties because to us it was a delicacy./Growing to a school of rich kids/ Used to play around as we please/ While Mamma and Daddy would sit on the bed, fighting over the budget monthly"
The track takes on a sombre tone, as he talks about disappointing his parents with the "one right decision" he ever made. It seems the story is universal. Our dreams and our hopes come second to our responsibility to sacrifice these very dreams and hopes to our elders, to do with them what they will. Forgetting this, neglecting this, or rejecting this brings a world of pain and guilt that we can never forget; not so long as they are alive to remind us.
 
The track also informs listeners of his departure from the site he started.
"See you later,all./ When I'm gone, I'm gone./ And Unspoken Hymns will be led by someone else./ Cuz I'm at my new dawn./And 'Nothing. But a Slave' was the beginning and the end./ Cuz guess what?/ I'm gone."

It's not clear where he's going. But we hope it's not too far from projects like this.

Below you will find the track "Grown" and read select work from three of his authors: Yousuf Faroqi, Wardah Sardar & Rawan K 

..."Lost in the River of What-Could-Have-Beens"... 

Download the entire album from the Unspoken Hymns website!

You can read the entire collection of works from the following writers on the Unspoken Hymns website.

When you’re bleeding sorrow
When you think of tomorrow
Do I come to mind?
When you feel anxious
Maybe even happiness
Do I come to mind?
When you feel delighted
Just a little excited
Do I come to mind?
When the rain splatters to the ground
And people put on those regular frowns
Do I come to mind?
When the sun is bright
And you see their smiles
Do I come to mind?
When you see the shine in their eyes
When you hear whimpering cries
Do I come to mind?
When you’ve completely resigned
And you feel lonely inside
Do I come to mind?

You told me that poetry should be just a hobby
And as a poet, I’ll have absolutely no career
I’ve given you many of my choices and my years
And now, I’m about to become an engineer
I know why I’m not happy,
The question is: Why aren’t you?

It’s oddly beautiful
How everyone was there when I was born, but no one is there when I live
How everyone is always asking, but no one ever tells me how to give
How I’m sometimes willing to forgive and even forget, but I never heal
How everybody feels me, but no one knows how I feel
How everyone always tells me who to be, but no one tells me who I am
How my parents truely love me, but they just don’t give a damn
How I love every member of my family, but I don’t always like them
How I forget about God so often, although the only one who’s always here is Him
How time only runs forward, how the past has gone but will always stay
How human beings are not necessarily human, but still treated as if they were anyway
How oddly beautiful this world is
God, I wonder what comes after this life.

She stands
Like a princess
Smiles to every shot the camera man takes.
It was a day of joy for me,
as always…
 because she is happy.
The noises of kids screaming and running
And babies crying made this site treasured and original.

The singer singing “asta boro” go slowly.
Hit me, for now I knew she will go away from me.
Her face dancing with delight to this song,
as she walks slowly away from the stage.
Gorgeous
as always….

I walked with the crowd,
with a old suite and a borrowed camera.
My hands trembling,
as my eyes witness her happiness.
With difficulty I manage to capture a few memories.

Girls from the man’s family dancing,
 as they walk,
to qataghan (Afghan wedding dance song).
They have been since the wedding began.
A few of them trying to force me into it too,
but these hands and feet had only learned to work.
 
An organized wedding.
Everything very well organized.
They probably spent a lot,
The food was delicious,
everything from soup to kabeli ( Afghani rice, the one with raisins).

Other group girls stood on either side,
making a pathway for the two of them.
Throwing flower,
All roses, just like her lips.
Never-ending beauty, face like the moon,
as always…

As the function finishes,
They stand near the exit,
waiting for me, the brother, to tie the green cloth around her waist.
I tied it as strong as I could, into a flower,
symbolizing an unbreakable bond of happiness and love.
She bursts into tears and throws herself into my arms,
And whispers into my ears, “You are better than a thousand dads,”
silenced me and my ocean of love for her only lengthened.
And said to her, “You want me to cry too, don’t you.”
Never…
and another smile,
A fake one, only for my pleasure
But I will take it and never forget it until last breath escapes.

May you have a wonderful life
May tears never come into your eyes
May contentment befriend you
and God protect
I will always be here,
For you
                                                            As always…