I am a man from Falluja,
I went for Friday prayers,
To the nearest mosque,
There I was safe- I thought,
As no one would attack,
A place of worship,
And then came the bullets,
And everyone fell to the ground,
As Red blood splattered all around,
I felt dizzy, Unbelievingly,
I stared at the blurred ceiling,
As I saw two figures come close,
I weakly showed them my wound,
And he pointed his gun,
Straight at my head,
As I lay there helplessly silly,
"What had I done?" I asked,
"I am a man from Falluja,
Who came to the mosque for prayers."
He pulled the trigger,
The sound deafened my ears,
And I felt a piercing,
And a wave of shock entered my body,
With unimaginably forceful pain,
The images blurred out of sight,
Darkness sank around slowly,
As all my senses abandoned me,
Another crime against humanity,
Freedom- were my last thoughts.