Sell all your daughters and enslave your sons;
And pray they find a swift mortality;
Loot boys of childhood, strapped to bombs and guns;
And stone the little girls, once made you smile;
And close your eyes or turn your back; destroy,
Make hard your heart, to this reality;
Unclothe your helpless infant girls and boys
And mutilate them all; deaf to this vile
Lament; and let their wailing be the first
As worship to their god’s brutality;
Your agonising life and theirs is cursed;
Kindness… mercy… and love… are all a trial.
Unchained, you’ll wish a stranger peace and life;
Most likely on your way to stone your wife.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Comes now, from the East:
Sun, to turn this evil tide;
Burn it back to Hell.