Look at the Palestinian children,
These precious babies caught
amidst explosions and rubble,
They, who have to fear breathing,
They feel it deep down,
The stronger they breathe,
The louder they breathe,
The faster is the end of it.
Now, look at these Palestinian children,
As they smile, laugh, and cheer on,
The evil empire is engulfed in flames,
Like an eagle swooping down,
The savior's fire killed the monster of their nightmares.
The children finally feel loved,
Cared for, thought of,
They feel the warmth of God,
They see the light of God,
In this righteous fire of retribution.
Yes, these children now know,
There's an end to every suffering,
And that end is built on the cowardly bones
Of their savage killers.
YOU ARE READING
A budding writer's collection
PoesiaJust a bunch of poems written as and when I feel to write them
