Jasmine Shirazi

Night Terrors

I am jolted awake from my own involuntary scream,
Covered in sweat, shaking from my terrifying dream.
All these vivid images flash and suddenly my heart skips a beat,
To the image of three innocent boys brutally murdered in the back seat.
I see three mothers on the ground tears storming down their face,
Screaming and crying in horrific disgrace.
I see riots I see demonstrations rapidly evoke,
I see fighting I see children fading in thick smoke.
I see rockets I see bombs thrown in masses,
I see civilians I see buildings puff into ashes.
I see running I see sprinting from the horizon,
I hear praying I hear a loud piercing siren.
I feel pushing I feel shoving into a small shelter,
I feel claustrophobic I feel hot waiting while we swelter.
I feel hurried I feel anxious taking a quick shower,
Anticipating the next siren whether it be a day or an hour.
I see angry faces I see persistence of the other party,
I see violence I see force from the cowardly martyr.
I see hate I see passion from those who refuse to yield,
I see smiles I see pride in using a human shield.
I see lies I see false propaganda and negative portrayals,
I see carelessness I see our president and an unfaithful betrayal.
I feel haunted I feel scared of the thought,
Of being alive today and tomorrow not.
I hear crying I hear babies fearing the loud booms,
I see despair I see terror as the striking resumes.
I feel hopelessness I feel distressed,
I see children I see mothers clutching them to her chest.
I see blue and white I see flags burn in fire,
I feel desperate I feel frantic wishing it would all retire.
I quickly burst up out of bed,
Shaking this traumatizing nightmare from my head.
I feel silly believing something this extreme,
I turn on the news and oh no- it wasn’t a dream.

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