A free verse poem, Tony Malzone
East of the middle. Great kingdoms and tribes rose and fell in this place so brittle. The birthplace of the three creeds. The crossroads of all of thee. A place now defined by its turmoil, a place now refined by its oil. The riches of thee set apart from the ones who flee. A history so rich, a region succumbed to times ditch. Split by the Brits, the riches ran right from the hands of the people of this. Historically, this is our history. In the fertile valley born all of thee. The cradle of civilization, a libation to our creation. But through time we must have forgot, the great cities, monuments, and people who inhabited this plot. This land tells our story, glory, and our tribulations with our query. Our query and quest to end our distress. The distress of not knowing, when we lay to rest. The birthplace of our quest, and forever the rest. Long live the kingdoms, forever we quest.