Seen From the Othere Side

as seen from the other side of the border In the night the easterly wind picked up windows and doors rattled I was greatly worried a new voice from The Middle East – an Arab voice- was loud forceful, clear and menacing. For too long had the people been corrupted by western influences saying one thing while practising the opposite. The voice was harsh an uncompromising void of charity and tolerated no objection, the voice of those who had been oppressed too long and forced to nurture a voracious crow, a colonial outpost of European misfits, a cancer on the Arabic soul. A, time speak to me is it not at this moment right for western powers to leave and let the game plays itself out and let blood run into the sand? In the backyard dervishes of dust danced faster and Faster and scoured clean the fraudulent past.