As delicate light wipes away the gloom I see only my brothers and sisters…
Tears paint our faces.
Our faces of all colours, shapes, sizes and ages,
Slashed, torn and pain withered faces, we grieve unitedly for our lost love.
We have experienced the same suffering since the dawn of man, the same sour taste of senselessness in the eyes of oppression and the same sickness that pervades every step of every march of every man who held a gun to our collective heads and told us to run…
Together we stand, incorruptible, defiant and deathless in the sights of an enemy that wears all skins, an enemy that bows only to material power and possession, an enemy that has no creed but hides behind faux-religious ideology, an enemy that fuels the ever-present war machine with the venomous vehemence of a man possessed.
Together we can, and should and will object. Together we realise that what we are is equal, beautifully so, and that innocent lost life, of any face, of any colour, of any shape, of any age is a despicable crime against the soul.
Woodbine, E, 2015
(Photo, Eli Woodbine, London, 2015)