Hello, brother God is nobody’s toy saying hello, the hardest part while rifles are getting cold and army of tears are passing through I know you see this too there is only one blood one pain one thirst for revenge even same wind different chill different bow different the choreography of laughter and a patient god dormant in the gentleness of hearts
dedicated to the young Muslim man who had enough trust to invite Parisians in mourning to embrace him, and to all who have cried.