The face of a man lying in the dust
hidden from shying eyes
Children remembering the moment of disaster dead or alive
silent as innocence makes
I see you walking past
wearing the news on your feet
words of wisdom as dust in the wind
bring no mircale
war continues through the streets of dark shadows playing guns taking land, building endless walls
No pain counts, no views, no history, no beliefs, no faces of humans eating dust in the streets of disaster,
and grief walks naked, heavy eyes calling names of those gone one by one in the streets of disaster
Come to me, come to me, I have poetry screaming in my veins, blood shouting out of my mouth, and miracles growing out of my eyes
come to see I was, am, will be the land of my people, to hold them in, feed their children, be their love
I am the land of living
Farah Afshari
