Highly addictive and potentially fatal opioid pills found inside flour bags distributed by the so-called “Gaza Humanitarian Foundation”
Words can say no more.
Ghostly Sounds
Is it just the wind
threading through shattered rubble—
or a final breath
caught in the ruins?
The world’s most moral army,
draped in its victims’ rags,
dances a victory waltz
on the shattered skulls of children.
New architects of horror
stun the world—
hatred and hunger
unleashed without shame.
Laws are inked to muzzle protest,
to criminalize grief,
to silence any voice
naming genocide.
Long after bulldozers erase the evidence,
and glass towers rise
for the victors,
the whispers remain—
justice, justice—
echoing in the dust.
We are all complicit
when we choose silence.
Words can say no more.
Ghostly Sounds
Is it just the wind
threading through shattered rubble—
or a final breath
caught in the ruins?
The world’s most moral army,
draped in its victims’ rags,
dances a victory waltz
on the shattered skulls of children.
New architects of horror
stun the world—
hatred and hunger
unleashed without shame.
Laws are inked to muzzle protest,
to criminalize grief,
to silence any voice
naming genocide.
Long after bulldozers erase the evidence,
and glass towers rise
for the victors,
the whispers remain—
justice, justice—
echoing in the dust.
We are all complicit
when we choose silence.