diary of a syrian kid

I was born as the seventh child of my dad’s second wife,
hearing noises of firecrackers I grew.
Soon I was 2 when I was enlightened by the truth
when I stepped out of my house and realized it was not earth but hell.
It was not firecrackers but bullets.
Destruction everywhere as if it’s god’s wrath.
A city like a withered flower and smoky streets like our future.
Bewildered by the uncanny scene I ran back to my home,
with no tears but fear and a crying heart.
Our prayers and screams were heard by no one.
Living in this real nightmare I turned three.
When my father married for the third time.
Within three months, those three words ended everything between my mom and dad.
I realized love kills love.
Mom, me, and siblings stayed together being a reason to live for another.
Soon I was four,
Never saw schools but the ghouls.
Never read the alphabet but the scribings on graves.
Never learned science but the prayers to god.
Time flew and I was nine with a miserable life.
I went out to get some food to feed our empty stomachs and sad heart.
Got food and in a good mood took the road home.
The home was not home anymore.
The redness of my lips turned into redness over the bodies of my loved ones.
Blood and sadness everywhere but not the omnipresent god.
Pieces of bodies and so of my heart scattered everywhere.
Petrified I stood in complete oblivion.
with food in my hands but no one to feed.
I screamed with no voice.
I cried with no tears.
I was alive with no heart.
I could see nothing but the flashbacks.
I wish that I was never born in this place,
Where there is no peace and darkness prevails.
What was my crime to be punished in this way?
I was free as a soul and was caged into this body just to feel pain?
Will I ever feel happiness?
Neither the god nor the devil replied
and gunshots broke the silence…