Ode to the Muslims of Burma
I saw some godly men,
In trance they lined and took their turn.
Rose ye all from slumber when,
They’d left in haste, ye houses burned.
Now curse thee men that left this trail,
And woe, in silence, we let it be.
Sans shame we push the coffins nailed,
Sought shade beneath a lifeless tree.
Whose child was it that embraced the seas?
Thy lament seems spent in certain vain.
Some alive in midst of cries and pleas,
Most lay stone cold, turned free of pain.
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