Saturday, 21 July 2018

in Palestine

In Palestine. 

Tree rings
Many lives of men

Heart sings 
For a few of them 

Broad stairs 
With a pipe dream 

Sirat-ul-Mustaqeem. 

Undulating. 
Up and down. 

And with every dip
A down shift of the gears 

A return to the basics 
With every return there is gain. 

A lullaby of a souls coming 
That cane once before to the First Nation. 

Now sent to war against it
Those cruel ones that desecrate Quds

Pity stay his hand 
But justice demands them gone 

His song will deafen their every chorus 
Whilst  now they deafen us with news control

Then they will cry for pity sake. 
But who will hear

The Earth will groan 
And they will wish

That they did not kill 
The helpless child 

In Palestine. 
Where grown men cry

For pity sake 
Forbidden to defend themselves 

Against an onslaught 
Any other Nation could not bear. 

They are our braves. 

And where they stand 
We die. 

One thousand deaths 

END
(C) Shafeesthoughts 21st July 2018, London.