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The Genocide
I lay in the dust turned to mud by the blood of innocents,
my name i heard whispered on the sighing breeze of night
flahes of somrthing bright illuminated a ruined city.
broken buildings like jagged teeth seemed to laugh,
screams like banshees filled the sky dropping death
down upon the heads of those already dead.
What hate must be brewing in peoples hearts,
that no one lifts a finger to help.
They say that God gives them the right,
however no one knows what God they serve.
Little children some still babes lay beside me,
blank eyes looking up,as if pleading for help.
My tears are spent and as dry as the sand beneath me,
My time has come to travel a new path now,
Following the trail of those gone before,
A trail of tears no,as no tears are left to shed.
Meeting fellow travellers of all nations,
murdered ,is all they say.
Andrew Provan McIntyre. 01/07/2025.
Copyright ©
Andrew Mcintyre
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