Somewhere between the restless whispers and silent promises,
before this war even reached the homeland,
ex-lovers lingered like relapses and fractured friendships staggered
like fresh brush strokes distorting
the unfinished canvas of collaboration

My art has become casualty to a tainted struggle over land unholy
I have been left blinded by the stillness
of abstract portraits of pleasures past
Intoxicated by the fumes of jealousy

My name will not be lent to this revolution
I will not fall deaf to these bombs and chorus of laughter
My faith will not die in these battlefields
These bones will not be buried beneath a battle
that is not my own

Terrorists may wander aimless with words as weapons
seeking refuge in the rumors of religions worth salvation
But as someone who has learned to survive since the age of three
My advice is to look into the eyes of the enemy

You will soon realize we are all just children
searching to be held by our fathers
hoping they remember our names

Emanuel Xavier

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/abandonment-6/