How easy it is for the starving

To forget the cedars of Lebanon,

To lose the façade of sin.


Instead, the smoke eclipses the Sun,

The black marble closes in with

The scent of death for rats.


How easy it is for animals to steal,

For High Ones to turn their eyes blind

To identities burned with skin, flesh, and bone.


In my Aryan blue eyes the remembrance

Of fire embeds what I see in a vacant embrace,

Unable to turn my own gaze blind.


Smolderings of infernos long extinguised

Have found fuel in me, even now.

My faith burns with my growing hope.


Gone is my loving God. He is

In the ashes of the children.


The End

0 comments about this story Feed