Please give my body to the night
It never ceased to serve me right
But though it tries with all its might
It cannot save me from my plight
Please give heart and mind to the moon
She’ll learn that they are damaged soon
She’ll see they march to their own tune
All they touch is not gold but ruin
My soul remains and it is still
Saving its strength for the hill
And in the numb I feel the chill
I am alive and I can feel
Image credit @cdd20
No Home
Reflecting on recent far-right protests against immigration, Ibrahim writes about his family’s journey to Britain and the odds they have had to overcome.
