My Daddy’s Dead. But That Doesn’t Count. Except For Me.
Syria is a huge cemetery, a land of hate, which strikes civilians just like the flames attack dry grass during summer time.
I am Syrian. My daddy’s dead. That doesn’t count. Except for me. My daddy’s dead. I’m waiting for him in front of his new home. His new home. A grave. My daddy’s dead. But he is Syrian. That doesn’t count. I’m waiting for him. He is dead. I’m alive. My daddy’s dead. But that doesn’t count. His new home. My grave. Dead. Just like my dad. My daddy and me are dead. We were Syrian. But that doesn’t count. Dead.
— Al Kanz (@Alkanz) 29 Novembre 2014
Translation: This photo hurts so bad! Such a little man sitting still before his father’s grave ;((((( #Syria
Syria, bilad al-Sham – which is so dear to the Muslims – is a huge cemetery wherein more than 200 000 souls have died, with the blessing of Western countries. This axis of good cosying up to the tyrant Al-Assad and rolling out the red carpet for the Egyptian criminal Sissi.
Inna li-Llah wa inna ilayhi raji’un. To God we Belong, and to Him we shall return.
[Translated from French ‘Mon papa est mort, mais ça ne compte pas. Sauf pour moi.’ by Mouna M.]