*Trigger Warning: Covid Death*
Rest in peace dearest ones,
They’ve failed us,
It is the rulers,
Crematoriums brimming, Overwhelming lies,
Ashes on one parallel, Palaces on the other,
Their storylines bear apathy at the core accompanied by fabricated
sympathy.
Talks, speeches, every word preaching dependence on their political systems,
Rather practised leaving us with snatched breaths, lives, crumbled structures,
Misapprehended us to be experts capable of anticipating the catastrophe and
the carnage,
No, not in elementary sentences,
Rather the intricate hesitant ways made it comprehensible,
Narrated the presence of empathy all along,
But is it there, existent, seen?
Do they feel?
The grief,
The misery,
The loss,
The voids,
The absence,
The vacuum of numb suffering.
Or is it the concealment of the renovated hollow institutions?
They made you depart in the acute silence of the chronic havoc,
Let you go to rest in peace,
Expanding their territory of ruins,
They do not serve,
They rule,
Rule expanded all through the ruins.
Rest in peace,
Their condolences were paid,
In their falsely sweet tones as if the pandemic is a normal annual season of
demise,
For the sake of meeting the lowered standards,
Rest in peace, at the cemetery, laying dead,
Rather killed silently without any trace of evidence,
For they are building new cages for the birds yet breathing; flying low or
high.
Miles away I heard they declare deaths with wars loud enough,
Sculpt the foundations of genocide, murders, assaults,
Bombard bodies and buildings, aim to cleanse ethnicities,
Claim to be the masters of free land and burn it relentlessly,
After bringing blood and losses to the streets,
They declare an expectedly short-lived truce,
And announce peace.
A look around again and it worsens with every blink,
Not just the dying, the dead,
Also the living, the existing,
Row the same vessel leading to their coast of confinement,
They scare the feared, restlessly attempt caging the fearless,
Neither the bodies nor the corpses, but the convictions, ideologies,
Of the born and becoming radicals.
The peace we knew didn’t have stacks of corpses laying in disrespect,
Their accomplished peace is a sunk vessel of humanity,
Their kingdom has an air of intentional incomprehension,
Witnesses confidentially calculated carnages,
Skies napalm and soot shaded,
The soil a resting graveyard to burnt olive branches,
And their kingdom has its peace among the pieces.