This is not life, Rahela.
You don’t know what’s better—
to live or to die.
No anesthesia, raw, savage.
A race with death.
Who gets there first—us, or it?

Civilization is defeated, Rahela.
It collapsed in a single day. One damned day.
Herod’s decree knows neither mercy nor reason.
Your cry is not heard today,
but Selma’s cry resounds.

The number of dead children is infinite.
So many children cannot fit on a single fresco.

It is a crime to stay silent, Rahela.
Yet silence reigns—senseless, relentless.

Revenge is the shortest path to extermination,
and still, they take it. Again and again.

All that remains of humanity
is the wail of the wounded, the orphans, the homeless.

Pray they survive, Rahela, Selma, Hana, Azra…
What this world, mad with hatred, lacks—is motherhood.
It’s too early for forgiveness, too late for survival.
So do not seek comfort—this is no time for comfort.
Pray it is not already too late.

October 30, 2023