The Beast on the Run

Dark night falls, the children sleep,

While minds of gold their silence keep.

On Persian soil, so rich, so wide,

Where people dream and work with pride.

A place of peace, of ancient grace,

A kind and warm, forgiving face.

They helped the Poles in days gone past,

Yet bombs fall now, so cruel, so fast.

A flash, a scream, a supersonic tear,

A little girl lies shattered there.

Her father’s mind, so sharp, so bright,

Now stains the wall in crimson light.

Even Marie Sklodowska sheds her tears (@>-|-<@),

From silent grave, she mourns her peers.

Those who split the atom’s core,

Now lie in blood, not science lore.

(The rules of war, once carved in stone,

Are shattered now, their spirit gone.

For even beasts would dare refrain,

And let the minds of light remain (｡•́︿•̀｡).

But here, the scholar dies day one,

Before the blade, before the gun.

This is no war — it’s wrath, it’s blight!

A dark age cloaked in satellite!)

Persian gardens, soft and bright,

Now glow beneath a cursed light.

A land of poets, prayer, and song,

Branded falsely as the wrong.

The peacemakers were slain before

They signed the pact to end the war.

But their silence exposes the lies,

And break the spell that blood supplies.

The beast returns and strikes again,

A child, a soul — what does he gain?

From Gaza’s dust to Persia’s ground,

He hunts where innocence is found.

Still hungry for the blood of men,

He sends his steel to strike again.

The ones who preach of peace and right,

Now feed the fire, fuel the fight.

One year hiding from what he’s done.

A court from The Hague wants take him down.

Crimes inked in blood, the scrolls repeat,

Yet kings of Earth bow at his feet.

Where prophets walked and saints had wept,

Now bombs explode where silence slept.

He strikes again, this fleeing ghost,

From courtrooms where he should be host.

Even the wise in synagogues ✡️ frown ,

“Not in our name,” they whisper down.

The fathers of faith, if they could see,

Would tear their robes in agony.

And Islam ☪️  weeps — the call to prayer

Drowns in smoke-choked desert air.

Martyrs fall with Allah’s name,

While truth is buried deep in flame.

The cross (✝️) stands high, but none descend,

To shield the poor, to try, to mend.

Christians turn and look away,

As Mary mourns another day.

The world looks on with veiled disdain,

As minarets are marked for pain.

Europe turns, and China trades,

As justice flickers, dims, and fades.

His hatred grows for faith and kin,

For those who dare not look like him.

They lie on screens with crafted tales,

While reason sleeps and justice fails.

Media says Tehran would cheer the dead,

That rockets bring them joy instead.

But who could ever be so blind,

To think such hate could rule a mind?

Now giants meet with fists and threats,

To wipe a name that none forgets.

Persians strike with what remains,

Like lions forged in ancient chains.

In Geneva, Europe drew near,

Where clocks runs smooth and minds are clear.

CERN hummed with light, ideas were spun —

A cradle of thought, beneath Swiss sun.

Europe speak with Iran in grace,

“To tame the beast, we’ll show your face 

Let labs be open, let trust be sworn, (💡)”

But the beast had stirred — its rage reborn.

Before the strike, the markets shook 📈,

Not from fear — but insider look.

Money <🧑‍🦳📣>  whispered: “Now’s the time,”

So friends could climb and ride the crime.

🦅June 22nd — the truth erased,

Four - stood in Reason’s place .

Money roared loud, War clenched its fist,

Fanatic Faith lit the flames, A-Dream sealed the list.

No sign of Reason, no seat for Truth,

Justice was missing, as was Ruth.

Democracy barred, Compassion ignored,

Education silenced, Peace left at the door.

No trial held, no warning sent,

Just fire and death where scholars went.

Their crime? To think, to test, to learn —

For that, their labs were made to burn.

But angels know. The scroll is kept.

The saints will rise. No blood is swept.

One day the thrones shall crack and fall,

And truth will thunder over all.

Until that day, I sit and mourn,

For every life unjustly torn.

A nation framed, a people bled,

While tyrants feast on human bread.