Revolution: Poetry collection

Arab Spring

Faced a barricade of black uniformed zombies,
with the same black shields,
same black batons,
same black tear gas grenades,
and the same black guns
with black rubber bullets
hidden under their black uniforms.

Everywhere,
fists and legs were punching and kicking anything within their reach,
stone bruising,
knives slashing,
wood smashing skulls,
tear gas blinding
suffocating our lungs,
'safe' bullets carving holes.

Blood.
Blood everywhere,
I am covered with it
and most of it wasn't mine.

The black barricade would sway,
losing a few zombies,
always replacing its fallen with more.

We retreated,
taking our wounded and dead,
we won't leave any for them to eat.

Tomorrow will be another day,
we got nothing else to lose.

-Nadin El.