By Abdulghani Al-Shuaibi
You, butcher masked in flags of false defence,
Whose bombs defile the wells and fields of grace,
Your creed of fire reveals your impotence—
A tyrant’s hand, unmasked before the race.
Each home you crush shall rise in witness still,
Each child you slay shall haunt your sleepless night;
The ash of Gaza burns against your will,
And carves your name in infamy’s cold light.
Your Zion’s throne—mere mug of hollow pride,
Your “chosen” army stinks of moral rot;
For every lie your empire tries to hide,
The world will judge—and justice will not blot.
So wait, O scum of history’s darkest aisle,
The dawn shall call you Genocider—on trial.
