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Fatıma Nov 2019
The city is melting in the screams
In the dead of night,
From thick skins to thin skins, 
So accustomed to fearful, bloodied scenes 

As you walk through or past 
blinking in the putrid smokes rising up like an atom explosion  
compelling you to gouge your eyes out 
or rip the flesh off your bones 
You're knocked out in a floundering hill of carcass 

I was there 
I was scared 

Unidentifiable in the crowd adorned with courage
As my people should be 
They targeted me anyway
Emptying the barrel of a dozen revolvers
Hundreds of black-clad Darth Vaders 
besieged my space once taken to be safe 

Gone are those days entrusting 'law and order'
unmasking itself as a little less human 
cutting innocent lives shorter and shorter 
learning that it's after all a shape-shifting demon 

"When I grow up I want to serve in the plice
Fools, you see what they want you to see 
A provocation or condemnation 
And they give you a taste of merciless damnation 

My people play no part in the conflict 
And yet. The demons in blue and green 
orchestrate and construct minefields to **** 
And yet. We don't plan to forfeit 

I say 'We' on behalf of journalists 
I say 'people' on behalf of journalists 
also happen to be People with Emotions 
Finding middle ground when the earth under your feet 
crumbles. Living in Commotion

Power-hungry bodies are dark voids during a war 
because money buys protection 
because status breeds greed 
Empowered bodies are overcome during a war 
because all they feel is pain and fury 
of measures shaking them to the burning core 

They fired shots after shots 
manhandling our right to exist 
Our weapon of choice is the pen
we'll show them
tyranny is so close to its end

— The End —