Thou Shalt Not Kıll


               for gaza the killing field

am i a fly
who rummages through
an ancient scroll

or fleeing for his life
but caught
by the net of lies

am i a fly
who drills through
fragrance of high walls

or meeting death briefly
by the road
of broken promises

the fly sits within
carving head stones
of an arid mind

or the mind
at dawn welcomes
the new Dark Age

Mevlüt Ceylan

Core dergisi, İngiltere