Monday, 19 November 2012
There's something in the air, as sirens sing,
the pavements twisted with broken embers of peace,
a prism of shimmering emptiness as promise lays cursed.
Shoes speckled with blood, abandoned and bereft,
the sad drumbeat of humanity's curse.
Tiny hands, rigid fossil like,as fire breaths from a blood
Prayers on all sides, succumb to deep shadows,
as sunset descends, into deep labyrinths of hell,
the velocity of winds gather up storms.
We maintain vigil, take sides, proliferate opinions,
as the reverberations of suffering and sorrow grow.
This experience of darkness, impossible to erase,
like black mountains, glimmering across the night sky.
In the morning, the chants still ring out,
Inshallah, Inshallah, as the weeping mother buries her dead.
Posted by teifidancer at 10:15