if you think the wind
comes from nowhere
with no reason...
you are a fool!
your scriptures
are the ashes
of a fire long dead!
the bodies of those
you have killed
by your choices...
a sacrifice to your god!
you cannot deny
the blood on your hands,
the soot on your faces...
cannot muffle the cry
of babies unwanted!
holiness, pus,
semen, and sweat...
the hands on the shovel
that digs the shallow graves!
the wind prophesies,
with the memory of God!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem