Omran Daqneesh
He waits alone while men work hurriedly.
With dusty hair and bloodied face, in grief,
In pain, in shock, awaiting tragedy,
He sits. And there can be no disbelief
About a world of ash-filled skies and pain,
Where brothers die and daughters are demeaned.
In their world, blackened rocks and dead terrain
Are common. Bloodstains and unholy scenes
Surround a people fighting for release,
Release from hate and from calamity.
But time and time again it isn't peace
That comes off conqueror. It's entropy.
There's something wrong with how we could forget
About a boy whose playmates are now dead.
image by Central News Network
This is so moving. I think you captured a single moment perfectly, and I feel the same way about the refugee situation. Thank you for writing this sonnet.
ReplyDeleteWhat a powerful message. I loved how your poem ends in a slant rhyme. Like there's a disconnect in how we really could forget. As a reminder of the jarring impact of the things we try to ignore. I also loved the break in line 12, before the sentence, "it's entropy." Thank you for choosing such a powerful and important message. Along with the picture, it almost made me cry.
ReplyDeleteWow. That was powerful, especially that last line. Super impressive.
ReplyDeleteIt is really powerful, I kinda wish you could explore the theme in a little different way though, bringing the forgotten more to the stage versus the events ya know?
ReplyDeleteThis is so powerful. Every time I read or hear anything about this and similar situations, I want to do something and help in some way. This heightens that desire. Thank you.
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