The shadows have already crossed
The windows open,
in the background, the eye of a campfire
it wears away in the wind.
A fluorescent clock ticks
the precise time.
The city bites red
sunsets on the roofs.
I hear echoes of lamentations
from the bottom of the soul,
They cross painful borders,
lamentations on the walls
They relive the pain of torture.
The river that crosses the city
from the body, it overflows,
Bleeds in Gaza... in the
tender bodies of children
innocent
The shadows have already crossed
The windows open.
The ortho does not show its face
over the smoking city
that disappeared together
to its inhabitants.