My Palestine

by NIDAL   Jul 24, 2014

The tormented volcano erupts.

Thunderous clouds rain steel on the innocent.
drums of hate pound earth with vengeance in mind.

Merchants in a bidding war over the souls of the young and beautiful.

Lord of death roams the Holy City. looking for blood to quench his never ending thirst.

We are served misery and Sorrow one molten cup at a time.

But hope is alive.

A green eyed girl rises from the ashes. Engulfed with pride.

With searing love emanates from her eyes.
And with a defiant voice of angelic thunder shaking the essence of the enemy.

She Recites these words for creation to witness.
I am an Arab....and Palestine.


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 2 years ago

    by Ben Pickard

    "We are served misery and sorrow one molten cup at a time" - my favourite line in a very powerful and well written piece.
    All the best,