After the genocide


From the cracks along the pavement the purple flowers bloom

Now this concrete is the medium and there's a body in the room

Paint peels slowly and surfaces glow with dappled sunlight,

Words scrawled on a wall: all-women  'jin' unit based in Sinjar

Will throw Daesh into hell

These words bounce around the walls of my cell

As sun and shadow meet

To swirl in the whirl of this dance of air

Making a zephyr of the weather and a brute of this flute,

Paying homage to that which is no longer here,

As it mingles with the Magus in this Zoroastrian air:

As the Ezedi are crucified on the Nineveh plain.

They turn to face their ISIS enemies again.

The Peacock-Angel cannot fly

So she spreads her wings

Until they cover the whole

World with God's shadow.


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◄ Good Friday

An Airy nothing ►


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