Come oh come ye Caucassian goons
Come and show us the light to Istanbul's heart and soul.
Come and see the gravelling agony, the ghostly departures, the deep craters of hatred on brittle soil.
Come and hear the sounds of shattered mirrors, the noise of screeching birds, the screams of dying mothers.
Come and feed on the grailing ruins of a forgotten disaster, like a pansy daisy field with an abandoned dandelion.
Categories:
grailing, allah, anger, angst, art,
Form: Prose Poetry