My Syria That I Know

My Syria that I know is a peaceful place. My Syria that I know is not a monster eating up the hearts and souls of those that loves it most. My Syria that I know is a country with a winter so enjoyable you’d love; as you wake up, to see the snow while warm in your bed. My Syria that I know is my childhood, my first crush on a teacher, my first kiss, my first touch, my first time I cry on my mother’s lap cursing the life.
My Syria that I know is a lighthearted joker with a beautiful smile. She is a woman in her wedding dress. She is a snowy ice cream in a heated summer. She is my pride, she is my mother’s steps roaming the rooms of our house with her high heels looking for her purse to go to a late night event in our neighbors’ house while I pretend to be asleep so I can watch TV after she leaves. My Syria that I know is my first stolen cigarette; my first deep breath while I swim, fearing to drown, for the first time. She is my collection of Spy novels that I made my own little library for them. My first shushed laughter while hiding under the bed playing hide and seek with my cousins. She is the silly demons stories I hear about every time I pass by an old abundant house in my neighborhood. My Syria that I know is a place where early autumn winds lefts my spirits up. My Syria that I know is my small bed in my parents house, the picture on my bedroom’s wall of Jack and Rose while standing on the edge of the Titanic.

My Syria that I know knows that I seek no political parties; I don’t care anymore who is winning a war or who is losing. My Syria that I know gets that I’m apolitical.

That’s why I say no.
I say no to people using the simple (and justified) demands of the crowds for political reasons and call themselves leaders of revolutions; I say no to the people killing people to keep their crown on their heads. I say no to people seeking power with blood on their hands. I say no to the mother’s tears, to the children’s cries; to the last breathe of a young man losing his life while hungry cameras are eating his soul. I say no to late sleepless nights while waiting for news of the whereabouts of a missing cousin.

I say no to killing my Syria that I know.

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. speedzero
    Mar 04, 2012 @ 13:50:24

    بتخلص الدنية وما في غيرك يا وطني
    بضللك طفل صغير

    Reply

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