we are not numbers

emerging writers from Palestine tell their stories and advocate for their human rights

Devil’s Cage

Sometimes the suffering around me is simply overwhelming.

I wrote this poem when I was feeling overwhelmed by the cruel reality of the world we live in. We all need to step up and be part of the light in a world of darkness.

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Mother, the night is dark
and I'm lost in this maze.
With doubting humans around me,
I lack strength to play the devil's game.

I wonder what the wicked believe:
Is it faith in power, war or false praise? 
Did he ever consider humanity?
I think not…for it's lost in a haze.

The children in Palestine, Yemen and Syria
are under siege. 
Stripped of their childhood,
Stuck in a daily death race.

Mother, pray for our souls
for we’ve cursed each other with such hate.
We're living with a crucified conscience
Ungratefully cursing God's peaceful grace.

Thirsty to shed the blood of innocents,
We are drowning in wars, our countries ablaze.
Now the only victims are you and me,
Left to rot in the devil's cage.

Mother, keep on praying for my lost soul;
I long to find my way out of this maze.

Zeina Azzam.
Mentor: Zeina Azzam

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