Do not silence my wails
A poem on the Uyghur genocide
On your halcyon days
sun shines there
yet it doesn't seep through rooms besieged in dull
because beyond our gates lies
the torment of the innocence
wails of agony unheard except our own
In congregation
we’re packed like sardines
to count the last of our days
with torn skin
and eyes unable to tear
for the thought of ever leaving the doors
never crossing our minds.
For we are fatigued,
with our organs removed and trafficked
as we sit here impotent
resist so hard yet remain helpless in
mental tug of wars
to lose hope
but still clinging onto the refracted beams of light
shining through holes in
spaces of indoctrination
For once, a beautiful family
now nothing but fragments of blood, tear
and suppressed agony
laid out on the floors
of deceased
to wish for repose above the clouds
fail to notice their…
