Today, far away from the headlines,
In the distant cover of sand and media oblivion,
A nation is targeting the orphans of forgotten villages,
The average age of the culled population is seventeen.

One of the world’s most advanced military war machines
Is daily incinerating the flowers of a deleted generation,
Whole areas reduced to smoking rubble and jagged bones,
This is a butcher’s paradise where schools are turned into abattoirs.

This genocide has been silenced by the complicit newsrooms,
Those who dare to speak out are condemned as traitors to patriotism,
Politicians and world speakers dance the sermon of inhuman lies,
All the while the children have their lives and dreams bled out of them.

In a hospital that was pulverized by an American gifted missile,
Little two-year old Maha clings to what remains of her fractured life,
Her glazed eyes are circled black like a Panda’s patches
Because shrapnel made a home inside her skull and spine.