Friday

Painted on the wall, words burn
red names of hurt and menace,
hanging threat above the door.

The congregation files in, silent,
through crosshairs hidden and
watching from behind a mask.

Prayers turn to the east, and fall to their knees.
Whispering, in the name of God,
most compassionate, most merciful.

Outside, streets roar like fear,
thick with polluted air and
black echoes in the cloud.

Hate, painted on the masjid wall.
Hanging threat above the door –
all who worship here will fall.

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