The Ghoul in Damascus

Dedicated to the fallen souls of Syria. We will never forget, we will never forgive.

This is the overture of the end

Death is our guest tonight

Fattened by the souls of our companions

We are waiting for the closure

Whatever end may it be.

 

Our fortress of faith is trembling

Under the cold winds of fear

And the catapult of hate

Launching its poisoned fire

Will the sun rise again?

 

The walls are becoming feeble

As the dying snow of a winter’s end

The rain of apathy embraces the despaired

As it descends upon the weary hearts

Grinding the love of life

Grinding the remains of hope

 

The merciless machine is now inside

Breathing smoke and tar

The fortress is falling

The night has prevailed

And the gallows await…

 

The mocking shadow of death lurks in the corner

There’s no way out...

But still we stand.

Ready to spit him in the eye

The Ghoul with a gun

Will offer us a bitter exit

And to the exit we will march

In the final moments of life

Fear is kicked away,

We will take what you give us

With cold eyes and burning souls

So that you remember the day

You desecrated our sanctuary

 

Mothers with the rage of bears

Children with eyes of lions

Old men guard them till the end

They’ll make you suffer before they fall...

Reviews

[Nick Patrick]

The scenery you have implored to capture the setting is impeccable. You have conveyed the dynamic force of destruction through clever and lasting metaphors. A very good poem! Well done!

[ImperialTroll]

Thank you very much! Glad you liked it.

[M. A. Kilcorse]

The imagery is striking and beautiful, though the flow of the entire work feels jumbled and inconstant. Consider the effect of the position of words in your lines, and look into punctuation and its purpose in controlling the tone of poetry or prose

[ImperialTroll]

Thanks for your kind words. I will take them under consideration of course.