Gifts Of War Poem by Istabraq Al Ahmadi

Before joy could mix with the air,
Before dawn could breathe the light,
War hurried to our slumberous town,
shrouding the sky with tresses of flare,
Knocking at the doors,
Piercing through the peepholes,
and the tiny cracks of the walls.

Quicker than the children's impatience
while waiting for the morn,
war came to collect the gifts
and to give some to those it meets.
But, it does not accept money nor toys
Nor does it like the taste of sweets.
it steals smiles, dreams and kisses
to burn them with the tears of grief
in the dust thrown over soft cheeks
of children buried at every dusk.