Utter these words to the soldier who stands,
arms and head against living tree,
letting out the humanity he could no longer stifle in the form of tears and sobs heavy enough to leave his shoulders heaving and his hands
-the same hands that cradled the AK-47 he held onto like life-
trembling.
But life had long escaped him.
arms and head against living tree,
letting out the humanity he could no longer stifle in the form of tears and sobs heavy enough to leave his shoulders heaving and his hands
-the same hands that cradled the AK-47 he held onto like life-
trembling.
But life had long escaped him.
Utter these words to the child rocking back and forth -what
we know as tornado-drill position:
knees against chest, head between knees,
hair drenched in sweat and eyes puffy with despair
and that sick emptiness that comes with losing what you thought was everything sticking against his entire being like the air was sewn into Velcro…
calling out “Ummi, ummi.”
knees against chest, head between knees,
hair drenched in sweat and eyes puffy with despair
and that sick emptiness that comes with losing what you thought was everything sticking against his entire being like the air was sewn into Velcro…
calling out “Ummi, ummi.”
Utter these words to the daughter
who once dreamt of white taffeta and lace dresses, velvet wedding flowers, and the lights that would sparkle as she danced the night away
And who once prayed to love and be loved with the one man she believed was written for her every time she bowed down to her Lord.
…who now sits on her blanket as the rest of her family sleeps, violently wiping away the tears that brought back memories of men- no, animalistic monsters- who would not even regard her as human.
The memories that would not even allow her to revel in the hope and significance of her dignity.
No longer trusting any man, walking around, her heart crippled in a cage of confusion asking everyday why it still beat for her?
who once dreamt of white taffeta and lace dresses, velvet wedding flowers, and the lights that would sparkle as she danced the night away
And who once prayed to love and be loved with the one man she believed was written for her every time she bowed down to her Lord.
…who now sits on her blanket as the rest of her family sleeps, violently wiping away the tears that brought back memories of men- no, animalistic monsters- who would not even regard her as human.
The memories that would not even allow her to revel in the hope and significance of her dignity.
No longer trusting any man, walking around, her heart crippled in a cage of confusion asking everyday why it still beat for her?
Utter these words to the revolutionary, armed to defend what
time had oppressed, yet bending down
-even in the wake of death and torture worse than death itself-
bending to embrace the cat that continues to walk around; blameless- managing to still carry the capacity for tenderness, mercy and love.
And then again, bending, kneeling, bowing, falling, that same hour to pray to The Only One there for him.
Still holding on -with all that he does not have to lose- to the faith and freedom he fights for.
-even in the wake of death and torture worse than death itself-
bending to embrace the cat that continues to walk around; blameless- managing to still carry the capacity for tenderness, mercy and love.
And then again, bending, kneeling, bowing, falling, that same hour to pray to The Only One there for him.
Still holding on -with all that he does not have to lose- to the faith and freedom he fights for.
Utter these words to the mother who gently rocks her baby
from his white sheets,
beckoning him to wake and greet her with that unworldly and purely newborn smile,
Her own smile of denial shining through the tears that would not stop loitering on her fighting face-
Madness.
Not willing to accept the fact that the baby would not wake,
for its sleep was now infinite.
beckoning him to wake and greet her with that unworldly and purely newborn smile,
Her own smile of denial shining through the tears that would not stop loitering on her fighting face-
Madness.
Not willing to accept the fact that the baby would not wake,
for its sleep was now infinite.
Utter these words to them and ask
if they mean anything.
if they mean anything.
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