Zywa
We start with prayer
Boots, your size, laundry basket and soap
each his own soap, your body
is a temple, your hand is God's
She is crying wildly in front of us
in a nightgown, her hair tousled
Barefoot she wants to stop me
Here, take the book, guard it
with your life, your gun and the bullet
belts. Exercise!
Her family is hiding, I think
Beware, before it's too late
I must... Is she coming closer?
Headscarves, every morning
a box of clean clothes and ammunition
Get ready for training
Must I shoot, is it true?
Are the clean hands for others?
Forget about the mess, be proud!
You turn in the laundry before the appeal
That's it, the rest comes later
We start with prayer
Which of us did it? Where
is the heavenly light, the blessing on the silence
on the debris and the blood in the sand?
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