End Game

A POEM ABOUT GENOCIDE

By: Deeby Jaaber

_-End-Game-PS2-_

Trying to find the language to articulate the pain

I feel on a daily basis is enough to drive one clinically insane

I mean literally and figuratively I feel physically constrained

like a lynching I just hang upon one concept constantly whipping in my brain

How is it we maintain the amount of anger it requires

to deem a human being subservient n therefore chained to your desires

It is this misplaced hate that is the flame within the fire

engulfing our existence until what remains of us expires

Where do we get the nerve to look away as millions die

when every channel turned its genocide after genocide

My brothers in Iraq some killers others the victimized

Sunni, Shi’a, both witnessed the demise of men, women, and children’s lives

And then Islam is vilified. But who’s dying in Kabul, who’s dying in Darfur?

and it is by no coincidence that the majority of them are poor

With these horribly tragic wars, is it progress we’re asking for?

and if money is the root of all evil, then why do we ask for more?

More than politics or economics perhaps its greed that feeds the process

that keeps the powerful keeping the progress of the powerless from being accomplished

Crooks with a corrupt sense of entitlement, I’m incensed by the sight of them

so like an engineer of enlightenment, I’ve been sent to rewire them

This is question and answer my friends I have to ask

if we cannot learn how to solve our problems, what then is the aftermath?

I’m dealing in arithmetic b/c there’s a science to civility

the mission is to kill our division I’ll be supplying u the artillery

Replace the stones with stability see the playing field isn’t fair

we want peace in Palestine well its time for the pen and a prayer

Not a dollar and a dream its the deen that has the means to stop us

from spending a million dollars on vegas’ strip, instead of using it to rebuild Gaza’s

I hear the whimpers, of Somali children orphaned by the sword of their tormenters

and see the grimace on young Chechens face who’s hearts are as cold as Siberian winters

Can u taste the bitter defeat from the loss of lives in this struggle

or smell the stench of spirits deceased as it rises from the rubble

That’s five senses I’ve run thru if I could touch the pulse of the planet

diagnosis, end close, now are u focused or u panicked?

Sense number six, see this involves intuition

n I say no matter how far we fall we will always end up lifting

B/c how can u hold something down that has no top or bottom

rather is the middle ground so we say loud Allahu Alam

Allahu Akbar it should all just work out fine

but if we know that it is borrowed is the quarreling worth our time?

Whether Sufi or Tabliqi, in a kufi or dashiki

I am one w/ my brother.. this Umma is what completes me

Why’s the obvious so often debated, I have to much love to be caught up in hatred

making a call for patience, until u realize we are all related

So many hang ups and schisms regarding race and religion

we lose sight of all the blessings in the grace we’ve been given

Over 6 billion waiting at the gates of redemption

are u in or are u out? let’s pray we make the right decision

END GAME

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