Two steps, one, two / His eyes stare, mine too /  No steps left, I swallow. We meet. / What will follow?

Knowing where you are now / hearing of what your life is now /… / I reconsider the shape of my hope.

If the war stops now, who will bring back our loved ones who were killed in cold blood?

How old are you? In times of war / A five-year-old child is not five anymore.

We are living a genocide / They said, “You don’t have the right to decide / Just flow with the survival tide”

May I choose my death? / To be a complete body, with head / Don’t exclude my head like Ismail or Rami!

Portraits of my family lined the walls / the scent of lavender in the corridors / colorful toys in a box on the floor.

I heard the voice of myself / in the middle of war and death / wondering if I was a ghost.

Once / upon a night / I lost my son.

Red lines and blue lines / Run to meet in the middle of the heart / To dance together and invite the heart to drum.

What if your house is bombed and you are / buried alive under rubble?

Take me to the sky on your kite / And let me fly far away from this life.