The dead have risen to meet the dead, bloodstain sheets upon their bed.

Revenge is sweet, they thought, for years of suffering the Nazi kill.

Time now, they think, to plant their own flag so ever proudly upon the hill.

A hill now covered in the blood of those nearest to them, the beloved Palestinians…

How deep the vein of hate to cause such mayhem, as they seize the moment to bomb and kill them.

The wailing wall of Jerusalem has new echo’s now, that few might fear to near and hear. And how, while their neighbours blood runs through the streets, so close they can hear the beat of heart’s attacked, fall screaming, dying, while loved ones weep?

Will they rest with such revenge achieved? No contrition can cleanse them now.

Too late, their fate is sealed, there is no way forward to be healed — or forgiven…by any Palestinian.