Israel’s Attack on Qatar
“He who pays the piper calls the tune,”
and the piper of your tragedy
was America,
playing its flute through Israel’s fire.
O Qatar, blinded by your own gold,
you mistook greed for wisdom,
and in your thirst for wealth
you invited the wolves to guard your gates.
Did you not see the shadow of betrayal?
The largest base of America rests upon your soil,
its radars sharper than the eyes of eagles—
yet the jets of Israel passed unseen,
like daggers through your unguarded chest.
Do not be naïve.
If you believe America was innocent,
you mock yourselves before the grave.
Have you forgotten the corpses of Baghdad?
The silence of Tripoli?
The endless cries of Gaza’s children?
America is no friend—
he is a merchant of blood.
His loyalty is to profit,
his covenant is with chaos.
He builds his empire
from the bones of those who once trusted him.
You celebrated his protection
as if he were a brother,
but brothers do not sharpen knives
behind the curtain of their smiles.
Learn from the fate of Saddam,
from the fall of Gaddafi,
from the ashes of your neighbors.
For the fire that devoured them
is the same fire that now seeks you.
Qatar, you are not the master of your destiny
so long as you dance to the strings of another.
And remember this truth:
What is done to Gaza
shall be done to you—
for those who embrace the serpent
must one day taste its fangs.
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