Hama Tuma
AGAINST THE WALL
Against the wall, dull red
with blood, pockmarked like the face
of a small pox victim,
hand tied he stood
to face the grim men of death.
Against the wall stood a dream, golden,
facing the monsters of every nightmare.
Against the wall the smile of the victor
laughing at the vermin who only knew
how to slaughter.
Against the wall our hapless country
to be shot by her own children.
Against the wall all sanity, all mercy,
as the wheel turns, and the killers in turn
are put against the wall
pockmarked by their own bullets.
Against the wall all decency,
all history
to be shot at dawn.