Your Whole World Dies
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Your boy plays by the garden gates,
searching the ground for fallen dates.
And a desert wind sways palm trees,
whistling with every feisty breeze.
Pointing to a jet in the sky,
he's mesmerized as death streaks by.
And as you snatch him up to run,
the earth erupts bright as the sun.
A siren warns of an attack,
the air explodes, and all turns black.
And you wake from a numbing sleep,
racked by pain, and begin to weep.
Opening your eyes, the sky's gone,
total darkness erased the dawn.
And your ears ring painfully loud,
buried under a smoking shroud.
Reaching out, you encounter death,
your child is without pulse or breath.
And a piercing pain stabs your soul,
your son lies dead here in this hole.
Air and sound rush in together
but all you smell is burnt leather.
For in Syria, hope can't rise,
what is life when your whole world dies?
(Rhyme)
5/18/2017
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2017
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