Sacrifice Of A Small Beauty
by Ismaeel Hijazi
UK
The Flower of a Mercy Raised Up,
Destined to receive that golden cup,
A draught of bittersweet you did sup,
To rouse the heedless and lift them up.
Dead before death,
In your heart nothing left,
Just the presence of His Breath
And to all men deaf.
Can’t they see, don’t they understand,
That this struggle is not for who rules the land,
What do you have to do with rocks, earth and sand,
When all of you is in His Hand.
They weep, they plead,
"You cannot win, you can’t succeed,"
To them all you pay no heed
They can’t follow where you lead