Those eyes, that sneer, that pose.
Leaning back, counting rows.
Chewing gum and burping beer.
Never shedding a true felt tear.

Those guns, those big black boots.
No nationality, no proud roots.
Empty souls with empty goals,
Full up pockets with stitched up holes.

Insufferable faces, corrupted plans,
Illegal settlements on Arab lands.
The sky detests the prospect and smell,
The sea, it only knows too well.
The dust, it settles only to ascend yet again.
Never knowing just where and when.
The broken rocks and bricks of homes,
Rise up to fly, these soldiered stones.

Those eyes, those tears, those fears.
Crying vociferously but know one hears.
Pulling hair and choking on sorrow,
Who’s next to go, today or tomorrow?

That life, streets stained with innocent blood.
No water to drink and food’s no good.
Crippled hopes, and stolen smiles.
Broken bodies, in broken piles.

Faces lost beneath the destruction, the pain
Mouths wide open waiting for mercy to pour it’s rain.
The sky, it sighs, it hears the cries.
The sea sees the desperation in their eyes.
The dust, a temporary grave for those,
Who were martyred, those who Allah chose,
For He knows all, and He is fair.
He warned of this and will ease despair.
He is the witness, He is the one….
To tear down the killers, to raise up the sun.