Al-Aqsa is in my heart and the settlers rip the fibres apart to chant death threats to my hollow chambers. If I do not survive to see the cerulean grief in the domes of my heart morph into the liberation of a country between the…
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Al-Aqsa is in my heart and the settlers rip the fibres apart to chant death threats to my hollow chambers. If I do not survive to see the cerulean grief in the domes of my heart morph into the liberation of a country between the…