Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.16.81.94
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
Beating the midday forlorn sun
By foot they begun the journey leaving the pun
Beware of the dangers and tactics to shun  
Between that time and reaching the destination without fun
Beholding the situation, carrying the bun
Before Palmyra falls, it must be done. 

Holding hands the long flight ahead set
Hephzibah’s children could no longer wait
 Hoping to cross over to the western gate
Homs already destroyed, before it was late  
Haunted,  Alawites , Mershdis,  Ismailis, Druze and the remaining Christians met , 
Holy books discarded, they departed only with eyes wet. 

Crossing the barren desert under the full moon
Comforting light winds of June
Caused panic and confusion what across the dune 
Cared by the crazy loons 
Crisscrossing the violent goons
Carried on by the vision to reach the safe heaven soon.

Soon after, their departure from the spot 
Scary laughter’s heard a lot
Scathing matters unfolded as citizens fought 
 Seeming beauty of the ancient city was in shatter by firing shot 
Scornful images after batter and stench of rot  
Spoiling images of the Bride of the Desert, we got 

Where stood the citadel of Bell 
With citizens treated with equality well 
Withdrawn from glory by the bombarded shell
When the ruins in despair, no connecting rail
Weeping in despair, the goddesses in the dell  
Wizards came over destroying all mail. 

For those, children of mankind walking dared 
Forsaken by fate; left to be glared 
Frightening experiences on the route layered 
Frozen altitudes, fearful of being shared    
Fences erupted overnight to stop them flared.
Firstly to stop them escaping the situation, barriers were wired.
 
Exhausted already, by the walk
Engulfed by shady, barb wires, in the muck
Enthusiastically they made ready, their new home by luck 
Enlisted as refugees, they hide and duck
Enchanting their prosperity in prayer halls and later chuck 
Embalming their identity by the UN serial mark. 
The more daring ones pranced, the iron barriers they grasped  
 Then climbed over it drained and sprained 
Trampled on the other side where it rained, 
Took to the journey again, hounded, grounded, chained and maimed, couldn’t made their hope waned 
The march continued, until they reach the land’s end 
The challenge of taking over the rough seas by boat caused doubt 
The young lives lost and we cried aloud. 
This lead to Politicians frown asking how many have drowned? 
They played upon, the number game once again. 

by agniva ghosal
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required