Grapes! An attack, a retreat and a wide orchard left by the concerned people.
It became a big mass of land when the inhabitants fled, but littered with fats and flesh of the dead.
The chrome land swept by wind, hurricanes and hovered by clouds above in the clear blue skies.
The chrome land, an archaeological cisterns and breeze.
The chrome land, reminded by the last drops of rains, wars and the Zaqqum trees.
The chrome land, singing and dancing an African dance; has a remembrance to the everlasting.
The chrome land is missing and not recognizing the agonies.
The chrome land yearns for freedom and restoration of dignity to the freeman is miserable.
Ottawa International Poets and Writers for human Rights (OIPWHR)
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