be not silent to me…

 

the tank
heavily plated
with the steel of hate
crossed the border of reason
shredding the fields
of hope beneath
its tracks
moving like an old ship
burdened with an albatross
around its mast
sailing
to a minaret
pushing the walls
of the tower
into the ground
to bury the sounds of prayers
but come the dawn
they hear the call
the sound
caught upon the wind
could have so easily
been mistaken
for the sounds
of falling leaves
but slowly
it grew louder
a chant
a demand
that peace
be now
without delay
and then
the silence
of despair