My tears will never do justice to your pain,
Nor will I ever feel the right,
To utter your name,
Without pain running through me,
Without feeling shame,
Because of my silence,
As your roots were tarnished,
And your children were taken,
By a hand that strangled the future,
A hand that denied them of life,
A hand ruled by hate,
Tainted with evil,
Painted with the blood,
That poured from your veins.

Again my heart is crying for you,
But today my tears are warm,
Like the blood that poured from your wounds,
Like the life,
The breath that was snatched from your lungs,
Like the skin that was burnt to the bone,
And the land they destroyed,
Not just for today,
But for the future,
They stole the light,
That lights the horizon,
The light that rises at the end of the night,
Brings with it peace and hope that will reside,
In her arms,
So she can nurture its light.

I wish I could erase,
The years of war,
The time you were in pain,
I wish that I was not a child,
When I first uttered your name,
I wish that I could have spoken,
Pleaded in your name…



Iraq, I’m still weeping in your name.

–Sanaah Sultan, September 9, 2012 (via Teresa Gill)