“Bring the wind” by Dean Reeves


It was just and righteous to hammer, with all industry and might,

Upon the hateful furnace.

The bell ring revelations of evil deeds silenced, tempered by tears of sorrow,

And regret we stood too long.

But how proudly we then stood atop the extinguished pyre of tyranny,

Determined that never again would flames of hate prevail nor fabled beasts release.

We would stand together in sunlight to build a free world along bountiful rivers wide,

Walls which divided us did finally crumble, and muted voices gently but certain raised.

Identities once cloistered and suppressed were revealed and celebrated,

Castles of certainty would fall but there would be no sharing of the spoils.

Joyful rain filled puddles of hope across a continent once aflame in despair,

But the clouds did not stay, and from memory embers of past bonfires passed.

Today in Aleppo and Homs choked in smoke, amid broken bodies rested in rubble,

But their pleas unheard above the clang from the politics of fear.

War, greed, and desperate need crept as ancient chimera looked for her prey, sweeping up all hostility and ignorance to feast another day.

A pile of rotted timbers, of prejudice, hate and greed sit askew; with a waiting fire cat spitting by aside,

Oh humanity stand tall with axe blade, chip them fine and scatter to a fierce wind.


“I will tell God everything I saw” was the last sentence uttered by a Syrian child before he died of injuries caused by one of the Assad regime’s barrel bombs.



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