By Zahra Pilavdzic

Here,
 buried,
 beneath the rubble
 of slaughter.
 
The pawns cry not for kings,
 but for their missing...
 mothers,
 now martyrs.
 
They seek escape
 at the end of
 a long, dark
 checkerboard to hell.
 
Here in the absence
 of decency...
 there is no poetry,
 just blood.
 
and...
 
only the angels
 can fly
 from this place.

- Zahra Pilavdzic contributed this poem to PalestineChronicle.com.