Eexalted and sanctified His great name
Yet on the holy day no one came
Several thousands called out at dawn
Shouted this is not a game
We are not a game
Begged with tears for him to show
But he was laying in the sun
Resting from all the work he had done
So no superior force were to come
Or to calm
Only the devil feasted
Prancing around the carnage fest
Planting seeds of beated babies
Of a baby that was burned
And another abducted
And a one, now an orphan
And a one day old
Attached to a dead organ by a dead cord
He will not get a chance to learn his name
No one would get a chance to learn it
And an empty space will be left on a stone
Tiny enough for a single date, to celebrate and to mourn
Reporting live from the Kibbutz
Reporting death in the division
The TV reporter bursts into tears
And states that evil himself was in here
He returns the cast to the studio
Quiet now, they shoot
There is a missile bout
They attack again with no mercy
At time of great inner controversy
When there is no god to protect us
Nor a government made by man
Just a hopeless pray, relentless yells and burning images
That no one would ever forget
From that October 7th
The year we are at