He heals the brokenhearted, binding up their wounds. – Psalm 147:3
An infant and a toddler,
these innocent two,
angelic little babies,
were choked until blue.
In the name of religion,
and brutal jihad,
the assassins proudly march
as their crowds applaud.
They say they are justified
over ancient lands,
while blameless are beheaded
by villainous hands.
As they rape, starve, and murder,
does the world still care?
Hamas embodies evil,
straight from Satan’s lair.
Dead babies are paraded
kids gather to cheer,
while pure hate is on display,
we see this so clear.
Shiri, Ariel, Kfir -
remember their names.
Keep their memory alive,
like eternal flames.
God of Mercy, intervene,
guard us with Your seal.
Comfort the brokenhearted;
only You can heal.
Poetry type: 7/5 Trochee
Morning Star Poetry 