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The Maastricht Diplomat

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horror on the stage

arms cradle a body

whose I don’t know 

mothers fathers children strangers humans 

all faces all a blur

time suspended the moment  

wide eyes pierced mine

scream into a void nothing spoken 

nothing is fine 


homes crumbled; silence deafening 

mosques desecrated; conscience unmoved 

wolves clothed in white are less threatening 

until you see from whom they are removed

time will spin; descendants condemn 

close your eyes; ancestors shame 

mind as a mirror to them  

death on my chest will remain 

run a knife down your arm 


blare war in alarm 


steal the ground from underneath 


we all yearn for soft sound 

forgiveness is not given 

blinded by their own hands 

drenched in red

preach civility in quicksand

arms cradle a body

everyone I must know  

you them us me 

all faces of those 

fell with wind of west 

love for their land stolen 

actors at their best 

on the stage curtains drawn

I pray for liberty 

to what is deserved

spectators glass will shatter 

everyone will be served

may flowers come alive 

as birds return melody 

may gaza survive

peace in serenity


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