Desert Gloom

As I write this poem, Salakh Magamadov, LGBTQ activist and admin of the online atheist group, has been jailed and tortured in Chechnya, Russia. He was forced to make an apology video, admitting the existence of God. The lawyer has been denied access.

If you would like to find out more about the treatment of LGBTQ in Chechnya you can watch the groundbreaking documentary “Welcome to Chechnya” by HBO.

Oh lord,

don’t solidify my inners,

don’t imprint the mark of hate

on my face,

stop boiling my blood,

poisoning my heart.

-------------------------------

Eyes are portal to the soul.

I need no facial expression

or hand gesticulation

to witness,

the barbaric horror

you find yourself in.

/

Poison burning slowly

when the law,

became the tongue of the viper,

when the maker silent

to the cry of the weak.

/

How is it to feel and see

no way out,

when medieval warlord wants to drink

your blood,

while ancient thieving kleptocrats

dancing on your bones?

/

Hell constructed,

brick by brick,

by the justice seekers,

must have failed to see

the invisible hand,

dripping evil, speaking hate.

/

Dear Salakh,

beautiful flower,

they try to rip you off the ground

to destroy the only color that you bring,

to the surrounding desert gloom.

/

Stay strong,

even if the hope runs dry,

even if the light is bleak.

/

As we race towards

the new medieval mess,

and prepare for sunless days

all my dreams and hopes

beg for the event

of the Ranneisance proportions,

ray of sun piercing through the grey.