My God, my God,
why have you forsaken Syria?
Hear the prayers of their groaning.
Day and night the tears of your children
are poured out, but they find no rest.
They are poured out in civil war —
bones broken by bombing,
mouths dried up by poison gases,
and their sorrow lays them in the dust.
Let not those far away
circle to count their bones,
and for pride gloat over a conflict
whose red is not line but blood.
Let the soldiers of others
not take upon themselves
the dividing of Syria’s affliction
as if there were a winning
by rolling dice
in the midst of all their sorrow.
August 30, 2013