(Parisian Massacre)
Death loomed, destruction mounted,
God was replaced with human cruelty,
The click of a dystopian ideology;
Fracturing the innocence,
And the neon lights,
The city of light rendered dark,
Walking upon the ruins of the future,
The Eiffel tower wept;
Red, white and blue
Drops of grief,
They peeled off blood, they killed,
We shed blood, we killed, we droned,
And returned to bomb the rubble and the corpses,
When will it all end?
Insane men they are,
Sane and free men we think we are,
Can we not stop this
Vicious cycle of death?
I wonder,
Oh trouble, be kind,
I have no taste for vengeance,
Our democracy is emptied of meaning.
Ibrahim Ibn Salma
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem