Syria


All the media say, could not explain her pain
All she says was Where is my dear?
Where have you gone? I don’t like these unwanted visiting guests.
Because all I see is dead flesh on the streets

I look for a place to hide, my child I can’t hear your cry
My Assyrian black eyes are looking for my little apple pie
You are all I have where Can I hide? Where Did you hide?
Where should I hide?

My child you must be playing run and hide
but I can’t find Why I can’t find?
I miss you my dear I can’t deny
I felt and heard the sound of your pain
I heard the suffering sound of the unburied souls

Forgive me my dear all I have left is tears and
my black eyes have turned into bloody rain drops.
My heart turned black is now the cancer
I have to survive I’m homeless and I may be prejudiced.

I still hear bullet clicks and raging guns
I’m forced to flee “ This is our Exodus” episode
this is our nation despair.
Syria forgive me, Syria forgive them

Hush my little child don’t you cry
My heart is beside yours and yours by mine
Mum is forced to leave from this living war episode.
Hush my baby soul rest in peace in the arm of our guiding God.

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Syria

Syria short poem

When I last saw you, in this rubble and mess, I scaresly knew mysel, for fear was all around me. And nothing here was blessed. But a shaft of light appeared; so bright I could not see. And peace came

Syria: On “The Road To Damascus”

Syria: On The Road To Damascus elegy

My heart bleeds, just as my tear-soaked eyes, and anguish-filled-mouth keep asking: why Syria – the Levant – the rising land Why Damascus – the City of Jasmine of shrubs and vines, now turn to vineyard of locoweed and poison