Death is a traveller on the road to Gaza

Your ashen hair, Palestine

Went up in the flames of a cry

Your children went up in ashes

Travelling

Through the air

In the claws of the victim

Graduated to perpetrator

And received into the murderers' ranks

(as civilisation progresses

endowing its prey with

sophistication)

Courted now by the fire

In which their own children burnt

All innocence is lost

And you, my blood, are consumed

By the grey milk of the dawn

Death is a mask

That drowns the face

Handed round as a fetish

It grows in eye after eye

Erupting in blindness

It turns to ashes our last hope to live

And carves faces

Bare of life

Bare of mercy

Bare of hope

Featureless is the face

That incorporates DEATH

Praised is the fist and the knout

And the foot in the neck

Unquestioned is power

Where it is exercised

He whose hand holds the gun condemns violence

And

He that kills condemns murder

For the judge breaks the law

And condemned

Is the dispossessed

Denounced is the hand raised in defence

Who is who?

D-E-A-T-H, say the defeated

To them

Has no name

But it's the hand of a man

That closed round the throat

Of a man

That  drained out the life

Of him

But when the oppressor robbed the oppressed of his last

Dignity

And the master the slave

Of his last grain of life

It was within the law

What is the law?

Whose

Asks the insurgent

Is the law?

And whose law i s the l a w ?

The old question

Asked again

(Reiterated):

Whose world is the world?

(No thought of sleep

[must political lyrics have rhythm?

{or is it bad times for lyrics?}]

((How free am I to say

What I see?))

(((Grey milk of the morn))) )

O God

God

Here we die

Death is a traveller on the roads of this world

Not one life

Ever

Can be brought back

Your ashen lips

My dead child

In the fire of the bombs'

Holocaust

And the stains of your blood

On the wall

Ask: Who?

And: How?

And: Why?

"I hope they've learnt their lesson."

(Shim'on Peres, Peace Nobel Prize Winner)