The Way to Be Free


The Way to Be Free

I walk through the ashes and blood, wondering

Is there a beating heart amongst this debris?
A breathing lung or a moving finger
Instead of lost souls, wandering, searching…

I look up at the sky drying the tears I’m shedding

Is this what you call justice, a decree
Of cruelty and bitterness
Towards children crawled up on the ground, hiding…

I listen to the sound of hatred, raging

Is this how it has to be?
These souls nothing but a number
To the coward fate-handlers, watching, laughing

I grab a sword from a hand that was fighting

Is this the way to be free?
Will you grant us justice before our slumber?
Before the cowards win and we die, defying…

A Tale of a Boy


A Tale of a Boy

Gather around people
And listen to what I have to say
It’s a tale of a boy
Who went astray

Day one, he was okay
Living with his family
Until one day
They were shot insensibly
And died while he begged them to stay
His life became a tragedy
And his soul turned grey

Day two, he ran away
To another place
To find his way
And start a new phase
Somewhere far away

Day three, he became a prey
To the strangers he met
Along the way
They grabbed him by the neck
And his skin, they tried to flay

Day four, he faced a fray
He tried to flee
But he had to obey
Those who ignored a plea
From a boy, from a stray

Day five, it was the day
The boy escaped
From the hate and the dismay
“Leave me be,” he said
“I need to find my way.”

Day six, his heart started to decay
He cried, for all he wanted
Was to buy a bouquet
For his loved ones, the dead
And find a way
To place it on their soil-bed
Before he slipped away

Day seven, the final day
He was filled with dread
And started to pray
To be killed, to join the dead
Because for him, it was the only way
To return home to his mother’s gingerbread
And make the nightmares go away

The Weakness of Our Mind


The Weakness of Our Mind

I only have a few photos from my childhood
The rest are ashes now
They were destroyed along with our house
And my favorite chair

1996…
I don’t know why I feel shocked sometimes
Maybe I believe in the good nature of the human kind
A nature that ceased to exist
I used to believe-
I always believed…
Then they destroyed the only doll I had
And that’s when I stopped believing

2006…
It’s been nine years now
But the decapitated children-
The “collateral damage”-
Are still ashes
Buried and forgotten

2015…
I’m beyond that stage where my eyes-
The once innocent eyes-
Only see love and kindness
The reality is the only thing I see now
The hatred, the greed, the bullshit!
The bullshit they try to sell us
And fill our heads with

That’s why we’re killing each other
An agreement between our “leaders”
They want us to finish each other off
They want us to become slaves and robots to be controlled

I wish people would just stop and look…

It’s not about our religion
Not about our differences
It’s the weakness of our mind that allows their words-
Their lies to seep inside and entangle with our thoughts

2020…
So,
When are we going to stop it?

Fools, aren’t we?


Fools, aren't we

A beggar sits on the curb waiting for
A piece of bread, hopefully more
To hide and keep in store
For the cold days that bear the rage of Thor

On the other side is the muffled sound
Of a boy giving his mother the benefit of doubt
That someday she’ll be back
But for now, she is nowhere to be found
And his sadness will become profound

Fools, aren’t we?
We can cross the sea
And we can turn the world into debris
But we can’t help thee
Those who can be

Better than you and me

Months later and it’s still the same
The beggar is there, along with his bane
The boy is older, but there he’ll remain
Waiting for a mother who never came
But his hope is something you cannot explain

Fools, aren’t we?
All this life but we
Aren’t even close to being esprit
We look down at the people, grimly
Thinking we are better, thinking we are nobility
Oh the calamity!

Years later and the street has changed
The beggar is dead, no longer pained
By the hunger and the hate
Those people sustained
Along with a look of disgust, unashamed

But the boy is a man now
His hope is lost and so is the vow
He took to wait for a mother who did not allow
Her heart to accept a son who never knew how
To live but learned how to bow
To the people who condemned thou

Fools, aren’t we?
Yelling at our children, insensibly
“Stay away from them! They have the flea.
They are filth, every one of thee”
But the man was human, wasn’t he?
Just like you and me

We are fools to think we are different
We are simply delinquent
We are fools, proud to be eloquent
We refuse to help the unfortunate and be benevolent
Instead, we watch them starve
And become creatures simply malevolent