This old poem is for the bleeding and fighting souls of Palestine, Syria, Iraq, Darfur, Arakan and ALL the Oppressed whose wounds are only deepening and seeping.
This is for children with lost childhoods, for the lives of loved ones stolen savagely and for every valuable teardrop because of robbed freedom only breathing in air of toxic oppression.
Thursday, 26th August 2004
- My Lament ~ Arakan, These are My Words for You
- The Impossible Absence • الغياب المستحيل
- Jerusalem is Ours and Still Here
- Oh Dear Syria ~ My Apology
- The Crimson Stained Dress
- The First Seed of an Epic
- A Historic Exemplar
- Whispering Words
- I Am Palestine
- Rising Smile