Echos of the Girls of Shingal

Echos of You

 

Hawzhin Azeez

Echos of You

You were born on the sacred mountains of Shingal, and you inherited the rich valleys and the over flowing plains of the cradle of civilization. You were meant to live a long life, in your garden of Eden with your wind caressed hands and sun kissed hair living a life thousands of years old. But you were too young to know that one day the dark clouds of hate would ravage your homeland, dark whispers carried by the twisted hands of betrayal. Those with their dark ideologies and even darker hearts filled with lust for your eternally burning flame, your endless purity. They came in search of you. To enslave you, oh mother of my ancient Kurdistan. And it seems even God was sleeping in conspiratorial silence that day when they came to take you away…

You are gone now, and it seems only echos of you exist. You still echo in the alleyways of your home, now stooped in endless anticipation of your return. You echo in the once lush gardens of your mountain home, now turned yellow in an endless winter of sorrow. And you were so loved that even now your beloved mountains weep for you, echoing your name endlessly in search of a sign of you; as the endless plains rage against fate in grief. They call to you, your mountains, your valleys, your alleyways. Even the flowers that have braved the suffocating sorrow of the valleys have turned every which way in search of you. They call to you.

They call to you. and they wait endlessly, in anticipation of your return. They wait in protest as the rest of humanity sits still in its inhumane silence. They call to you, your mountains, your valleys, your alleyways. And they will wait eternally until the day you return to their loving embrace.

Dedicated to all the Yazidi girls and women who never came home.

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