Every time the bomb goes off
I feel being blown into smithereens
Look! A piece of my charred flesh sizzling on the charcoal road
Brother, be careful, you’ve stepped on a brownish mass
That’s slowly palpitating counting its last beats
That used to be a heart once
Full of life and zest
There you rescue worker
Collect my severed leg and keep the shoe for
My dear ones to recognize
The fingers flew everywhere… some are burnt and crushed
Some rotting in the drain close by;
Some are picked up by the investigators
Take a close look that’s NOT how suicide bombers hellish fingers would look like
Clutching the necklace, that had to be bought after a brief bargain
The melted eyes mixed with dirt, blood and smoke
Used to weave dreams are blind
I see, still, I can see
Myself in pieces, scattered all over
The good thing, however, is that now there is no pain