idk.

Wave of Unrest Sweet Polaris misses us tonight. Only Allah Holding hands over us, rains in his arms, — Blood of our brothers— noble impalas Soothing the salt, seafaring to disarm, The foam, the main, the deep, the wrath of Hezbollah Heavy with flame, dense and stark. Leaping ultimately into the unknown dark Survival eagerly forces us to embark. Peace is that of parables past, A story-book work upon paper, etched Into craving marrow minds, where delusion capers While barborous fates are sketched Into the lines of undefiled fledglings, With their roaring faces whiter than white They share in the plight. Vast, inky stretches of laughing death, Colourless, odourless in the air, Falling from high above, stealing breath From infants nestled in their mothers stares. Collapsed my little lungs; fumed with foul Animus abomination of predators surly With inculcated enmity; and they see No logical lucana for unity. Backlash brews steady as we float West, Drifting on sacrifices we cannot repay To those who lay their lives down in boldness Just to help carry us across the way And greet safety on the other side; In cities where Sunnis do not pay The price of freedom with blood, With flesh, thrown into unmarked mud. As h-shaʻb yurīd isqāṭ an-niẓām ash-shaʻb yurīd islah an-niẓām Ash-shaʻb yurīd inhāʼ al-inqisām