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#yemen
In brave Yemen where they stand tall And stories are been told And hearts of gold Yemeni people have And the mountains stand tall Just like the people and there shadows cast wide and strong Nurturing hope where the brave abide Through trials fierce the spirit shines bright In every dawn's glow and the starry night And nobody can lay a glove on the mighty Yemen and with hands that strong and dreams are always true and Brave Yemen rises forever more So God bless you.
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Jul 10, 2025
Jul 10, 2025 at 3:44 AM UTC
Brave Yemen 🇾🇪
Yemen is the poorest Country in the Arab world And it's the richest in history And spiritually and the richest In moral clarity and has a very Powerful military after Spending $1 billion dollars Fighting Yemen the American Army and government got No where God bless the real People on the side of Lord Jesus Christ.
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May 16, 2025
May 16, 2025 at 7:00 AM UTC
Yemeni People
In the sky the engines roars Wings like eagles bold and sore American fighter jet shot down tonight A warplane explodes under the Yemeni moonlight and Yemeni Army strong loyal and true And standing for justice too Bringing shadows cloaked in night Yet amid the thunder’s reign Hope for peace will never Come but American army Will never break the Yemeni chain.
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May 1, 2025
May 1, 2025 at 6:25 PM UTC
American War Plane
A jet flying in the blue sky With clouds and birds flying high It zoomed like a dream then Crashed into the red sea And it met its doom In the graveyard of the Yemeni red sea.
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Apr 29, 2025
Apr 29, 2025 at 4:21 AM UTC
Graveyard Of The Red Sea
In Yemen where unity stands And stories of a rich and ancient land And memories of joy shared All around Yemen And the desert winds blow Through valleys below and Yemen A culture that's vibrant and grand.
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Apr 25, 2025
Apr 25, 2025 at 6:50 PM UTC
Yemen 🇾🇪
A drone flew high in the Yemeni sky With a whir and a buzz it would fly And it captured beautiful Yemen Through lens so pristine And then crashed with a scare Now it's just a strange piece of junk Left there.
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Apr 25, 2025
Apr 25, 2025 at 4:45 AM UTC
$200 Million Dollars
There is no ceasefire, not in Gaza, not in Lebanon, not in Sudan, but only genocide... aggression... war... blood... slaughter, and pain. The West Bank continues to be under siege... met by tanks, death, threats...   Families are met with bullets to their head. The children are met with amputated limbs. Children are left orphan... and forgotten. Communities are met with too many martyrs to grieve... Where is this ceasefire now? There is bombardment in Yemen too, directed by the West like a true imperialist. If one dare to rise up and resist, are met with an iron fist by the international colonizer community, given consent to **** with no impunity... Dare the amputees speak.... Dare the bullet to the head speak... Dare the orphan speak.... Dare the resistance speak of their own pain... There is no ceasefire, but only genocide.   Where is this so-called ceasefire now? Nowhere in sight.... Where is the anti-war movement? Nowhere in sight..... What happened to the anti-war movement? Nowhere in sight….
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Mar 17, 2025
Mar 17, 2025 at 8:07 AM UTC
There is no ceasefire!
_Demon and stration Devil in the station Deemed as action Dew falls on its portion So sign social interpretation. To avoid war of faction No matter what temptation, do not cause discrimination. Remember some diaspora They played an opera But we ever played biafara. Some exiled to Accra Without eating carbonara Home is a home, just remember. Its beauty looks like amber. It's a steady stand like timber. It's division divided like a chamber. If stone throws from north, the south will set forth. And if it's from south, the north will set forth. Bring peace Not to piece But to prease I asked you please My fellow Nigerian_
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Jul 24, 2024
Jul 24, 2024 at 3:59 AM UTC
Demonstration
Antonio guterres speech.
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Apr 14, 2024
Apr 14, 2024 at 7:25 AM UTC
It was ashamed
A mother sits on the edge of a hospital bed with her baby daughter lying on her lap. The air throughout the hospital is suffocating, stifling with the stench of filth and death. The walls amplify and echo the anguish of women and children, and jets fly somewhere overhead. But she tries to sing a lullaby through her parched throat beneath her grubby niqāb. The skin and bones that make her frame cannot sway the child for comfort. She cannot feed her; even if her ******* could provide sustenance, the child’s sickness would puke it back up. She craves to cry for God to spare her little one, but her bloodshot, sunken eyes no longer produce tears. All she can offer is her lullaby, the same one she sang to all her children. All that remains of them and their father are fragments, scattered throughout dirt and debris, blown to bits a week ago by a blast in her village. When the only one left became sick, she started the trek to the nearest hospital. The journey greeted her with dust and unbearable heat, with the agony of an empty stomach, with a child in misery and excreting white diarrhea. And when she finally reached the hospital, the doctors could not provide treatment. The disease had progressed too far, and they did not have the means to save her daughter. So she sits on a hospice bed, surrounded by other sickly and starving bodies, singing a lullaby. Soon the child closes her eyes and stops breathing, a thick white drool leaking down her cheek. Her mother wipes it away. - by Aleksander Mielnikow (Alek the Poet)
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Jun 13, 2020
Jun 13, 2020 at 6:00 PM UTC
Forgotten
A mother sits on the edge of a hospital bed with her baby daughter lying on her lap. The air throughout the hospital is suffocating, stifling with the stench of filth and death. The walls amplify and echo the anguish of women and children, and jets fly somewhere overhead. But she tries to sing a lullaby through her parched throat beneath her grubby niqāb. The skin and bones that make her frame cannot sway the child for comfort. She cannot feed her; even if her ******* could provide sustenance, the child’s sickness would puke it back up. She craves to cry for God to spare her little one, but her bloodshot, sunken eyes no longer produce tears. All she can offer is her lullaby, the same one she sang to all her children. All that remains of them and their father are fragments, scattered throughout dirt and debris, blown to bits a week ago by a blast in her village. When the only one left became sick, she started the trek to the nearest hospital. The journey greeted her with dust and unbearable heat, with the agony of an empty stomach, with a child in misery and excreting white diarrhea. And when she finally reached the hospital, the doctors could not provide treatment. The disease had progressed too far, and they did not have the means to save her daughter. So she sits on a hospice bed, surrounded by other sickly and starving bodies, singing a lullaby. Soon the child closes her eyes and stops breathing, a thick white drool leaking down her cheek. Her mother wipes it away. - by Aleksander Mielnikow (Alek the Poet)
Continue reading...
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Hey give me a hand Hey please give me a hand Have mercy on me, at least Give me something just to eat I have been hungry for over a year Don't you all have His fear Don't you see I am all bones The flesh eaten away by war & drones There is no roof over my head Only mother Earth my all time bed The bullets & shells took away all Until I couldn't stand the fall I am feeble & can not move This hunger has eaten even my torso While the World watches me die How will it face the Creator with its lie For I will not forgive you on that day When I will stand tall on the Judgement day. (Khan, BA)
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Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 4:05 PM UTC
Give Me A Hand...
you know how brittle and thin the bones of a fried chicken look after you have bit them bare and licked them clean imagine bones like that bulging beneath the skin of a seven-year-old girl who is only still alive because she unlike forty of her brothers and sisters was not on the school bus destroyed the other day by an expensive star-spangled bomb her lips look like they haven’t laughed in years her skin lame as waxpaper what might have glowed once in the bright of Yemen’s sun is left instead to sag in agony from those sinless unfed bones while she goes to sleep for the final time a tycoon somewhere eats well and rests easy on the dollars that bought the bombs not really knowing the price that has been paid
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Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 1:21 PM UTC
Amal Hussein, Staring at Doom
Guns are all now silent, The killings all been done, The boys are coming home, The war’s ended, but not for some, The war to end all wars ended, One hundred years ago, The killings started over again, No poppies in the meadow, Civil war in Yemen, The Saudis and Iran, Russia starts an arms race, Trump’s wall building plan, Caravan from Honduras, Fleeing death and repulsion, Troops at the Mexican border, With guns and no discussion, Mothers fears and lovers tears, Of family they’ll never see again, Shootings at schools and bars, Talk of gun control all in vain.
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Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 8:41 AM UTC
11th November 2018
clip god's eagles they praise god at every single turn and worship him like an addict high blessing everyone and themselves even their aeroplanes are blessed with god's name on the nose this applies to both civil and military the warplanes especially are blessed with pilots who are adept at killing what does god think about this? or should we ask the devil? ten thousand killed in the yemen war blown to bits by saudi bombs dropped by planes with god bless painted on their nose tell me is this a wise thing? what is holy about these heinous act? i'm sure god has something to say when he speaks who will listen? the heathen muslim saudis who use fakely blessed jets to **** terrorists and civilians and further an unnamed cause in the name of who, god?
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Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 7:54 PM UTC
clip god's eagles