Flaming tree,
Chained to the earth,
Bowels of blood,
Pouring down.
City that bleeds,
Children fly,
Dead angels in the night,
Like the devil that sings death,
Infiltrating holy ground.
To desecrate and celebrate,
To build graves,
To free the demons,
To test every believer,
And his belief,
When Gaza crys,
We sit and commiserate,
Flaming guilt,
We European muslims are handcuffed,
Guilty for our safe homes,
And restful nights,
Whilst in Palestine,
Another child dies.
YOU ARE READING
Palestine
PoetryHere,where the hills slope before the sunset and the chasm of time near gardens whose shades have been cast aside, we do what prisoners do we do what the jobless do, we saw HOPE. A bunch of poems about our beloved Palestine.
