She was a volunteer
First responder, paramedic
At protests in Gaza
Unarmed Palestinians demonstrating
Against Israeli armed forces
Passions ran high that day
As tensions escalated
Over the diminishing of
Their lands and culture
No negotiations
Increased Israeli military presence
At unauthorized wall
Innocent women, children, elders,
Raising fists, crying, yelling,
At these great insults/injustices
Evil could be felt in the heated air
Forced dominance
Looming hatred mingled on contested space
Snipers strategically situated
Picking off unarmed protestors
At their discretion
One lay dying
As a woman wearing a white coat
With the Red Cross symbol
Ran towards the wounded citizen
With hands held high, in daylight
She felt it her duty to come and
Lend aid; it was a code, of the Cross,
She fell to her knees, as
An assassin’s bullet ripped
Through her tender flesh
Killing her viciously
A misogynist sniper in the sand
Deliberately chose this young woman
With much compassion in her soul
Who gave no heed to safety, as
She ran to give aid to a fallen man
This was not the work of God, but,
Of mad men intent on mayhem!
At that moment she became the
Angel of Gaza and met her God.
• Author’s Note: For Razan al-Najjar