The Cave

Innocent Infants

I've been living for years. My parents lived twice as me and my grandma triple as me. But I wasn't taught and they've never knew how could a terrorist be the one protecting his house from thieves. We've never had the knowledge of how the innocent can be the one killing kids. Don't we say kids are angels? Babies are angels? How could they be killed? And by killed here, we don't mean the metaphor but the actual killing. They're painting them with black, ruining the picture of life with the buildings they're battering. They're taking all means of life from them leaving them without either a mother, a father, siblings or even none of them. No revenge should be taken from kids, women or elderly. No revenge can be taken from youth when they're not responsible for anything.
You can't rip a kid because he's with his family in the hospital. Or because he's trying to find a corner where he can learn or read. Or because he's looking for food or water to give it to his younger sister. Or even because HE'S ALIVE.
They used to say that women are half of the world, so why are you killing half of the world?
Who'd kill doctors? A whole staff of doctors in a hospital? Who'd imagine that, in a moment they won't be able to see the light again because the whole hospital was bombed?
Come on... Who's the bad guy? Who's the terrorist? Who's the murderer? The killer?
Who's still saying that a kid who holds a stone to protect his only sister against a rifle is bad? Who'd say that the family that puts each two members in a place so if one place was bombed, a part of the family would be alive are the terrorist? Who can say that an infant is a criminal?
And moreover, those who are supposed to help and be fair, closed their ears, turned their backs and talked with the criminals taking the tongue and the voices of the innocents to leave them half dead.
The tree is crying and the sea is moaning. The animals heard the voices and the crows are judging.
The tombs are refusing to have these bodies because they're heavier than the world and the soil is asking for the blood of the devastating.
We've been calling. We've been screaming. We've been fighting. We've been doing. We've been being tortured. We've been being killed.
But the jury took their decisions before the existence of the catastrophe. As they agreed on leaving us alone, under attack without a bit of what they call: Mercy.