Hadi Atallah

There’s an excitement in this day, and if it be a son’s function to make a small change, then he must take his mother’s love in making this day as beautiful as possible…

…Looking closely, she sees deep worry in his eyes.

It was known among the brush huts and the policy makers and in the churches that he, acting alone, coined lunacy as a spiritual process. It would be a shame if prestige destroyed him…

…Though he was dressed and ready to.

The little boys hurried to the west, toward the high stone mountains to escape a school of great debt that drove in to eat them. And their parents covered their noses through the dark until they crowded into mystery again.

…He ate the oxygen to hold their breath.

I could still feel your eyes on this. I picked up a revelation from God and inspected the damage. You’re about to read this book. But I guess it’s too late now so I figure God is just outdated…

…Believe me. I’m a man.

They moan out a little song, and they say harshly, “Our beliefs you see, bring bitter enemies.” 

And they nod and get up to make raucous comments behind closed doors. 

This poison would have worked had the good not superseded them. 

Their brains now burn over the evil and poor. 

Their darkness spread over a page they share with all those that are indeed good. 

The violent plunge their knives into hearts in order to cleanse them. 

But equity conducts itself in a known pattern, nevertheless. 

It is known in the early morning through the world that humbleness and passion are well known among the good neighbors. 

Youngsters are taught about them with excitement. 

But those violent whisper about it. 

They become beggars with the first fruits of a quagmire.

We are ill with grief, they say.

‘Hypocrites!’