Beneath The Ossa Of Dust
(On the event when five women buried alive)
What kind of hearts
We contain in the chests!
What kind of thoughts
We bear in the minds!
What kind of blood
Flows through our veins!
For the loins and the wolves,
The rats and cats, the dogs and hogs:
The ferocious animals
That bear the brutal hearts,
Dare not bury their fellows alive.
I weep, weep and weep!
I wail, wail and wail!
On the deed you did,
On the crime you committed;
And those who remained silent spectators,
Are the accomplices too,
The collaborators,
In execution of the most heinous,
And monstrous deed.
The daughters of Eve and Adam,
Who are akin to us
As mothers, daughters, sisters
And companions of life
Have been maltreated,
Buried alive by the so-called elites:
Cream of the crop,
Who are men in forms
But wolves in spirits,
The sky might not have witnessed
The spectacle more horrible,
More hideous since centuries.
They might have suffocated
Feeling themselves beneath
The Ossa of dust,
Blocking the respiratory tracks,
All helpless, unaided
With palpitating, breathing hearts,
And fearful minds
Wrapped in the brutal murkiness,
Yearning for a single
Fresh breath or a gust of wind.
Where are the laws?
Where are the morals?
[...] Read more
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Added by Poetry Lover
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