This Mess we are in
where no promise can help
where no position can save
where just hope can make move and action is needed.
I am empathizing with the sorrow, with the pain
straining to find answers among thousands of who, what, why.
Can you hear them?
The sounds over the sky of fighters from one side and the mortars from the other one?
What were you wanting coming here? (What was it you wanted?)
I just want to say (What you want to say?)
I want make a change now (May be possible a change?)
My desire is to help but I am castratred, frustrated.
Hold in this structure of system, a system of a down.
Stigmatized by the environs, by my peers.
Forced to not say, not mention, not name or stand for all civilians’ rights.
Making controversy is unuseful.
Being complice is even worse.
I just want seek the truth and struggle in the jungle.
Unarmed, my tongue is the only weapon. Unsupported, I go ahead
“by making our awareness of abuse known to the powers of industry and their uncouth political arms.
Only by raising the awareness and promoting peace”
Just inform you that not with silence, nor indiferrence, is possible the Revolution.
Available only through Freedom:
far from own mental superstructures,
the cultural constrictions, social restrictions.
And the truth will come out, soon or later.
My shouting is like a prayer and my hopes never die.
But it’s not enough. Actions are needed.
Until the last child, the last victim won’t cry anymore,
until words won’t be powerful than before,
no rest and consolation will be part of this society
and we won’t never feel part of it.
In this Mess where we are in.
(Damasco, Siria, febbraio 2018)