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.