A smile connecting the ears,
A grin seducing death into coming in.
The throat starts weeping red tears,
In fear of the grin’s intent to commit sin.
The heart starts pounding, loud and clear,
As if yelling to the ones escaping, “Stop!”
But they choose not to hear,
And neither do they stay, not even a drop.
The tears escape on the cold white snow,
“Freedom, freedom from the prison cell!”
But soon enough, into the ground they start sinking low,
All hopes of true freedom devoured by a snowy spell.
It was like an escape from the prison of Alcatraz,
With the escapees being welcomed by a violent sea.
And a drowning death, grabbing at the mass
Of fools hoping to be free.
One cannot but notice this weak, red glow,
Of snow splicing with Muslim blood,
Shed by the hands of ruthless, and a vicious foe,
Of whom are truly enemies of God.
Countless of them have been slit and abandoned,
By sharp knives, easily capable of parting skin,
And we choose to pretend that they are not stranded,
We choose not to hear our Muslim kin.
And the tears of red are forever drowning,
And the ears no longer hear the heart’s pounding
And the heart finally stops its desperate crying,
And the throat is forever smiling.
A grin seducing death into coming in.
The throat starts weeping red tears,
In fear of the grin’s intent to commit sin.
The heart starts pounding, loud and clear,
As if yelling to the ones escaping, “Stop!”
But they choose not to hear,
And neither do they stay, not even a drop.
The tears escape on the cold white snow,
“Freedom, freedom from the prison cell!”
But soon enough, into the ground they start sinking low,
All hopes of true freedom devoured by a snowy spell.
It was like an escape from the prison of Alcatraz,
With the escapees being welcomed by a violent sea.
And a drowning death, grabbing at the mass
Of fools hoping to be free.
One cannot but notice this weak, red glow,
Of snow splicing with Muslim blood,
Shed by the hands of ruthless, and a vicious foe,
Of whom are truly enemies of God.
Countless of them have been slit and abandoned,
By sharp knives, easily capable of parting skin,
And we choose to pretend that they are not stranded,
We choose not to hear our Muslim kin.
And the tears of red are forever drowning,
And the ears no longer hear the heart’s pounding
And the heart finally stops its desperate crying,
And the throat is forever smiling.
