Next. Next. Next. Poem by Ida Mustazir

To kill or be killed is a futile lesson
Beautiful, majestic demolition
Too much names in my head
I can't remember, I can't cry over their stories
Season changes, does age change?
Haunted by great great grandfather's war
Our heroes
Our martyrs
We are ready to worship
the ground you've walked on
But time do not own us
Then why belong to generations?
Dear Father where can I find you
I need to talk about
Next. Next. Next.

(March 2009. Reading Fathers and Sons by Ivan Turgenev)