Run to your Gods

Run to your gods… run Tell them that their paradise is gone….gone forever The black eastern winds have been blowing for centuries, and the vicious locusts could not stand the beauty of our green fields…. Tell your gods, the lotuses are gone, the papyrus disappeared and we cant hear the hoopoe anymore. They stopped our mighty Nile’s eternal flow, and left us with a turbid soulless stream. The black eastern winds swept our villages, muted our songs and washed away the colorful laughs. Tell your gods…. To bring our colors back, the greens of the fields, the blues of the skies, and not to forget the gold of our sun. Run… and tell them to shine on their paradise again…. Beg them to return and guide the mob, the savage, and those blinded by the black wind. Ask them to bring love, wisdom and hope. Run to your gods….tell them about the silence that echoes in their paradise. Tell them about the barren women draped in black, and the impotent lame creatures sieging them. Remind them of the happiness that whirled in their paradise, remind them of our graceful dancers, our mellow melodies and our eloquent poets. Run to your gods….ask them to save us…to save what is left of us…..tell them to expel the locusts and ban the color black.