Mask and Flag

Seated on a sleek black horse
beneath the almond tree
you smile at the camera, though now
you are masked and carry a flag.
Above the head of an octogenarian
you raise your blade and then again
above the physician, the archivist,
the scholar, the peacemaker;
Black knight, you’ve cut the strings
of the poet’s voice, you’ve marked his words
yet more have come to mark your cruel crusade.

ref. Syrian poet Ibrahim Kashoush