O Afghanistan Poem by Dann Thomas

'Kahlil, Kahlil, come here. Where have you been'?
He stands proud, hands folded, laughing through
Little eyes like his father's, who he has never seen.

Thy mountains tamed by horses grand,
Thy opium fields with haze of purpled dreams
The majestic might of the Hindu Kush land
Once creased in happiness, now riddled with screams.
Thy rivers devoid of life melt into the sand.

Beautiful eyes that danced to the strings of the dutar
Hearts that wait for their husbands breathe.
Hands that consoled and wiped a reckless tear
Now beauty hooded in the sorrow of death
And trust and love lay barren to the spoils of fear.

To find one man a handsome nation is defaced.
The stroke of some paranoid master's rod.
To remove a tiny little thorn a mountain raised.
Homes now emptied of hope and god,
Where man, woman and child are disgraced.

Thy skies once over awed in stellar performance,
Now holds the fear of massacre riding on stealth.
Thy stars guided herdsmen across the plains unfence'
Now metal birds defecate the damnation of wealth
And the great dome flash colours of a war of ignorance.

'Kahlil, Kahlil' she screams running towards him
As shadows dropp their elaborate parcels of death.
Tearing her last love into shreds of blood and tin.


(The birth of terrorism)