This plague of blood
Who are the ones burning
and murdering
Palestinians in their villages,
slaughtering
sheep and goats,
cutting down olive trees
that have grown on the land
for centuries?
Who are the ones spilling blood
and turning the land
into a mortuary,
a funeral home,
not the homeland
I used to dream of,
not the Jewish state
I once looked on
with pride.
Do you not remember
how God wept
when the Egyptians were drowning
in the sea and we, His people,
cheered?
Where is our compassion?
What happened to kindness?
When did we become like our enemies
slaughtering the innocent,
trampling peace,
drowning calls for talks,
torching homes instead of
helping neighbors?
How did we become perpetrators
not victors, persecutors not victims,
all for the sake of a land
that we claim as our own
and that they claim as their own,
while each side shouts curses
and refuses to listen?
Does no one see how our blood
mingles in the earth with their blood,
and how the land has become
blood-soaked? How can there be
so much blood?
Does no one see
the blood is so great,
so deep,
like the sea,
and we are drowning in it?
Does no one see
how our hopes, our dreams,
our love of peace,
our visions of a future,
how all are stolen from us
by this plague of blood?
