Incantation, roughest draft.

(first draft transcribed)

Allah, Allah, Allah,
why have I forsaken thee?
For fear of retribution
fear of judgment.

But not Judgment I fear. But not this incantation
of repetition, not this whirling storm of words,
not this dervish in my heart.

Cry out for justice.
Cry out for freedom.

Cry out for the pain
of childhoods lost then found
then abandoned in acrid bottles
waste baskets full of youthful tissue.