I lay waiting for the bombs to fall,
the screaching of gravity
pulling a projectile of death
down to its random target.
I look into the darkness for the smoldering souls,
the children screaming into the night
as life expires through cold lips.
I listen for the building to crumble beneath me,
for the smell of rubble and turmoil,
a landscape changed by hatred.
I dream of understanding the malice and anger,
between these two hallowed nations,
and the recognition of a people as a "Zionist regime."
I stare into the bleak future,
awaiting the moment when,
I will have to explain to a child's mind
from where hatred and death stem.
I imagine the vastness in their eyes
when I speak of God and religion
as the catalyst of carnage and carrion.
