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مظاهرة قلعة دمشق

it’s dark

bodies press against you

voices already hoarse echo

in a language not yours, strange

a torn card

put in your face

while near running


Damascus Youth Union For Change

it’s cold

bricks reach out at you

from buildings

older than your grandmother’s eyes

you’re in the body of a serpent

moving through streets

senses open wide

any moment could be a sniper

tank’s shell

or shabiha attack

you are boots on the ground now

no time to rethink

or look back

everyone around you is widowed

fatherless, husband without bride

death is only more familiar

than the sound of torturous cries

the mantra is counterbalanced

with a voo doo trilling song

it is a night ripping peace counter attack

of what you know has been wrong

you cannot call out the words

but you raise your hands in beat to clap

around another corner

an entire regime’s face to slap

lifted cell phones charter the course

transmitting every sound

for the record:

murder without remorse

you can feel the strength

the steel glint in every eye

freedom pursued while you kill us

will never be denied

you will not duck into a doorway

their sounds resonate in your chest

you will follow through the night

cold feet for freedom

will not rest

©2012 Ruth Follmann