Who's Counting?

A tear, a drop, a pool
Red like a sunset, more blinding.
The skin quenches, looks away.
The scent, neutral. The shape, artistic.
The face, sweet, distant…gone.

The sound, a melody, a throbbing beat.
Consistent, sporadic, yet present.
The colors, dull. The uniforms, heavy. The look, deadly. The heart, cowardly. The tanks, obese...with hatred. The mind, childish. The words, meaningless…irresponsible
The hope, non-existent
The bodies, symmetrical, synonymous, uncountable...
'Tis truly a human tragedy, but who's counting?
Grown colder and stronger with every melody, the melody of the weapon against the silent sound of the rock. ... the precious rock, once built the sacred dome.
Proof is imminent, faces bright with endless hope, endless fights.
Never ever back down.
Spirits high, losses too... but who's counting?
The air, full of smoke…glasses shattered
Babies, full of holes…angels, watching over us, bringing sunshine and heartache
A beautiful face, pretty lips, eye brows carefully drawn, head covered with black and white squares…the last words, the courage, the media, the fragile self, the innocence….lost
The world is watching, the world is mourning….but who’s counting?
Souls, young and old, hungry for peace, never stop being bold
Well! Why the hell not? Who’s counting?

The heart goes out to all the mothers that lost their innocent children in a battle of years, an endless, cruel battle against the human dignity and race…To all the fathers that help put to rest their braves children, brothers, daughters that would not subdue to terror.
To all of you out there, those that are struggling to make a difference, but stand still in the face of shouts and tear gas-bombs of cowards, of hypocrites, of fools.
One day, we will get our peace and the whole world will watch, like they are now. We will be bitter, we will be scarred, we will feel empty, and we will be few….our only sanctuary is the ability to set foot on our sand, on our stones and feel victory….a victory that we reached alone, when the whole world sat back to watch….we will sleep in relief, a prayer said and a blessing for those gone….insurmountable no doubt, but who’s counting?……

Inspired by the courage of Palestinians, driven by anger towards the silent world

Hana