Member-only story
Micropoetry
Blind Power
Will Not Free Palestine
It must be the collective guilt
of a globe spinning in despair,
that keeps our eyes rolling, not resting.
Destroyed bodies, vanquished breath…
people born to the soil of Palestine,
burn, murdered in their tents.
Sleepers have no right to their dream anymore.
Off to the West, where silence rolls
into shallow graves.