Ghazal on Iraq

The solitary land of rubble left in the Gulf is Iraq-
These discoveries were expressed to me in a land not Iraq.

Soldiers, you’ve deserted me a crater in the countries valleys-
Why don’t I prostrate, in your presence, for freedom in Iraq?

Ismail, his arms lacerated, still cries for Iraq.
Oh, this is the reality of the war, his insignificant Iraq.

Who cares about Ismail? Every minute he bleats out:
Soldiers, put away your guns, stop the looting in Iraq.

From Baghdad Robert Fisk reports to the objective media:
You’ll all feel the bitter injustice of Iraq.

The roof is blurred; it’s become a shrine of fire.
I warn you that it must not burn. So march, march for peace in Iraq.

At a meeting of the Security Council, such diplomatic tension:
United nations tied into defending the honour of Iraq.

The Hawks proposed a war of shock and awe.
Well, it’s all done, in the devastated land of Iraq.

When Saddam fled, he left the country vulnerable and defenceless:
His loyal resisted, on the periphery, in bundles in Iraq.

People are no longer oppressed, they have a freedom-
Says Bush: Free every person in dead and crumbled Iraq.

Where there were people in Kerbala, you’ll see metal plantations-
Ploughed in shrapnel. Where is this Iraq?

I too, Oh Blair, witnessed the blood of young children.
And everywhere else, just like you, in Kosovo, Afghanistan, and Iraq.