Hello Sniper,
You don’t know me,
And I don’t know you,
I just know that you are sitting somewhere
With your cold hand on the trigger,
And your eyes are watching my every move,
And counting my last breath,
I don’t know why you terrify me,
But suddenly I discovered the reason,
I discovered that within one second you could put an end to all my dreams and thoughts,
What are you going to tell you mother?Your children?
Your family?
About all the innocent people that you made bleed?
Our bodies are tattooed with permanent bullet scars,
wounds,
burns
and pain from the loss of our loved ones,
you don’t even give us a chance to return them to the soil,
we have no tears left to mourn,
No words lefts to scorn,
And our martyrs are buried in parks,
Our injured are suffering in the streets,
Our citizens are left in the dark, the displaced are nowhere to be seen,
as all this is going through my mind,
I remember,
Hamza the 13 year old who was severely tortured to death,
Fatimah the two-year-old girl who was beheaded,
Ibrahim Qashoosh the 42 year old who was murdered for leading chants against Bashar,
Ghaith Mattar,
Rayan Al3amyan,
Hajar Al Khateeb
And the list goes on,
I sense you pulling the trigger,
As I hurry to get home
The shooting begins,
And The shelling never ends,
And I’m thinking of my last words,
Nothing?!
I thought to myself,
I always wanted my last move to be a SAJDEH,
I never thought it would be me running away from warplanes
Missiles
and snipers,
the UMMAH has forgotten about us,
while the leaders sit in their mansions dining with our enemies,
I must accept the fact that I will die,
Although I am not ready.
The people start to run,
The noise of the gunshots and bullets intensifies,
As the little boy in front of me drops to his knees…and down to his face,
I’m certain I’m next,
How will my mom know that I died?
Will they put me in a mass grave and label me an unknown martyr?
Will I even be buried the Islamic way?
Or will you keep firing around my body so nobody touches me?
I hope they know my name and I’m not considered an unknown martyr,
I WILL be part of the 60,000 that the world ignores,
I have to face this and just know that I will be going to a better place,
A place that is peaceful,
A place where I can reunite with all the martyrs,
A place called Paradise.
You know what?
Just go ahead and shoot me,
You WILL put an end to all my dreams,
But you WILL never be able to put an end to all the dreams of FREE SYRIANS,
Maybe my death will make a difference in this orphan revolution,
Please just shoot me,
You’re asking for me to become a martyr,
That is my pleasure,
I will die for my countries freedom,
As if I was alive to begin with,
My life flashes before my eyes,
I remember those joyous days i spent with my friends,
Those laughs from my mother,
The smiles from my brother,
Those memorable hugs from my father,
The late night talks with my sister,
I wish I can bring those memories back,
But the murderous regime left me without those friends,
Without my sisters that I never had,
Without my family,
Without….ANYTHING.
BAM-I feel my legs too weak to hold me as I drop to the ground,
A man in the distance reminds me—قولي الشهدة (Say the Shahadeh)
I begin,
اشهدو I gasp for air أن لا اله إلا الله و اشهدو it’s getting really hard for me to breath أن محمد رسول الله——-
As you fire another bullet,
Thank you for answering my prayers,
Im in a better place now,
I don’t need to worry about dodging bullets and missiles,
وَلَا تَحْسَبَنَّ الَّذِينَ قُتِلُوا فِي سَبِيلِ اللَّهِ أَمْوَاتًا بَلْ أَحْيَاءٌ عِندَ رَبِّهِمْ يُرْزَقُونَ
Think not of those who are killed in the Way of Allah as dead. Nay, they are alive, with their Lord, and they have provision. Quran 3:169
You don’t know me,
And I don’t know you,
I just know that you are sitting somewhere
With your cold hand on the trigger,
And your eyes are watching my every move,
And counting my last breath,
I don’t know why you terrify me,
But suddenly I discovered the reason,
I discovered that within one second you could put an end to all my dreams and thoughts,
What are you going to tell you mother?Your children?
Your family?
About all the innocent people that you made bleed?
Our bodies are tattooed with permanent bullet scars,
wounds,
burns
and pain from the loss of our loved ones,
you don’t even give us a chance to return them to the soil,
we have no tears left to mourn,
No words lefts to scorn,
And our martyrs are buried in parks,
Our injured are suffering in the streets,
Our citizens are left in the dark, the displaced are nowhere to be seen,
as all this is going through my mind,
I remember,
Hamza the 13 year old who was severely tortured to death,
Fatimah the two-year-old girl who was beheaded,
Ibrahim Qashoosh the 42 year old who was murdered for leading chants against Bashar,
Ghaith Mattar,
Rayan Al3amyan,
Hajar Al Khateeb
And the list goes on,
I sense you pulling the trigger,
As I hurry to get home
The shooting begins,
And The shelling never ends,
And I’m thinking of my last words,
Nothing?!
I thought to myself,
I always wanted my last move to be a SAJDEH,
I never thought it would be me running away from warplanes
Missiles
and snipers,
the UMMAH has forgotten about us,
while the leaders sit in their mansions dining with our enemies,
I must accept the fact that I will die,
Although I am not ready.
The people start to run,
The noise of the gunshots and bullets intensifies,
As the little boy in front of me drops to his knees…and down to his face,
I’m certain I’m next,
How will my mom know that I died?
Will they put me in a mass grave and label me an unknown martyr?
Will I even be buried the Islamic way?
Or will you keep firing around my body so nobody touches me?
I hope they know my name and I’m not considered an unknown martyr,
I WILL be part of the 60,000 that the world ignores,
I have to face this and just know that I will be going to a better place,
A place that is peaceful,
A place where I can reunite with all the martyrs,
A place called Paradise.
You know what?
Just go ahead and shoot me,
You WILL put an end to all my dreams,
But you WILL never be able to put an end to all the dreams of FREE SYRIANS,
Maybe my death will make a difference in this orphan revolution,
Please just shoot me,
You’re asking for me to become a martyr,
That is my pleasure,
I will die for my countries freedom,
As if I was alive to begin with,
My life flashes before my eyes,
I remember those joyous days i spent with my friends,
Those laughs from my mother,
The smiles from my brother,
Those memorable hugs from my father,
The late night talks with my sister,
I wish I can bring those memories back,
But the murderous regime left me without those friends,
Without my sisters that I never had,
Without my family,
Without….ANYTHING.
BAM-I feel my legs too weak to hold me as I drop to the ground,
A man in the distance reminds me—قولي الشهدة (Say the Shahadeh)
I begin,
اشهدو I gasp for air أن لا اله إلا الله و اشهدو it’s getting really hard for me to breath أن محمد رسول الله——-
As you fire another bullet,
Thank you for answering my prayers,
Im in a better place now,
I don’t need to worry about dodging bullets and missiles,
وَلَا تَحْسَبَنَّ الَّذِينَ قُتِلُوا فِي سَبِيلِ اللَّهِ أَمْوَاتًا بَلْ أَحْيَاءٌ عِندَ رَبِّهِمْ يُرْزَقُونَ
Think not of those who are killed in the Way of Allah as dead. Nay, they are alive, with their Lord, and they have provision. Quran 3:169
“You have killed nothing but our fear. Douma will not bow to anyone but Allah.”
Written on a wall in Douma, Syria
Death toll in Syria has reached 90 people on Wednesday (5/15/13)
including 6 women and 7 children
- 28 in Aleppo
- 21 in Homs
- 19 in Damascus/Suburbs
- 7 in Hama
- 5 in Idlib
- 4 in Raqqa
- 3 in Deir Ezzor
- 2 in Daraa
- 1 in Quneitra
May they all rest in peace.
Nakba Day march at Damascus Gate, Jerusalem.
Photograph: Abir Sultan/EPA
(Source: sulitati)
Islamic Tiles (Istanbul, Turkey)From the Collection: Photos of Islamic Tiles
Originally found on: islamandart
