"The
Necrocratic Decree: A Condemnation of Gaza’s Annihilation"
11 June 2025
"Let your mind
awaken to the unshakable truth: Israel is no longer a state—it is a necrocracy,
a death cult draped in the rotting banner of Zionism, ruling not by law but by
famine, not by justice but by mass graves. Its leaders—Netanyahu, Ben-Gvir,
Smotrich—are not statesmen but architects of extermination, their hands stained
not with ink but with the blood of starved children, their legacy etched not in
history books but in the hollow eyes of skeletal mothers clutching lifeless
infants.
Feel the weight of this reality: Gaza is not a battlefield but a
slaughterhouse, its people not combatants but lambs led to the altar of
Western-funded genocide. The United States and Europe do not merely watch—they
arm the butchers, sign the blockade orders, and whisper lies into the ears of a
comatose world. The UN? A graveyard of resolutions, where justice goes to die.
The ICJ? A gavel without teeth, its rulings trampled by the jackboots of
impunity.
Let this truth sear into your soul: Every denied aid truck is a
death sentence. Every bombed hospital is erasure. Every intercepted
humanitarian boat is a message—Palestinians shall not eat, Palestinians shall not heal,
Palestinians shall not exist. The world’s silence is not passive—it is a
chorus of approval, a standing ovation for the greatest crime of the 21st
century.
Now ask yourself, as the scales fall from your eyes: What are you? A bystander? A witness? Or a rebel against the necrocracy?
The choice is
yours—but history’s judgment is already written. Gaza will be remembered.
Israel’s crimes will be immortalized. And you? You will either stand with the
oppressed or be damned by your silence.
Let this decree echo through time: The necrocracy will fall. The
starving will rise. And the world will know—what was done in darkness will be
screamed from the rooftops of history."
Whalid Safodien
The Feather Pen
"The Necrocracy’s End: A Poem of Fire and Truth"
(A hymn for Gaza, Trump, and the death of silence—
each line a hammer, each rhyme a revolution.)
The bones of Gaza whisper through the sand,
"Necrocracy’s hand writes in blood, not ink."
Trump’s towers rise while children starve on land,
But hear the drums of justice—feel them sink.
Netanyahu, Smotrich, Ben-Gvir’s creed?
"Starvation is our scripture, death our law."
They bulldoze hope and call it "war" indeed,
Yet every corpse cracks Zion’s fatal flaw.
The UN shakes its fists but drops the gavel,
"Resolutions rot like blocked aid trucks."
While Trump funds the rifle and the shovel,
And Europe licks the boot of bloodstruck hucks.
They call you "animals"—but beasts don’t wage
A genocide so precise, so cold.
No lion claims the right to cage the cage,
No wolf denies the lamb its meal—behold.
The ICJ murmurs, "This might be crime,"
As Gaza’s last doctor counts ribs like stairs.
"The law is just a rope that buys us time,"
They sneer, then bomb the courthouse—no one cares.
Trump laughs and tweets from Mar-a-Lago’s throne,
"They’re dying? Good. Ratings will soar!"
His cult chants "Genocide? Leave us alone!"
While Gaza’s ghosts knock louder on Death’s door.
O Global South! O leaders draped in gold—
You trade your brothers’ blood for visa deals.
Your silence is the coffin, neatly sold,
Your "neutrality" the knife that kills.
But listen—listen—to the hunger’s song,
A rhythm pounding louder than their lies.
The Flotilla’s sails will break the blockade strong,
And every shared post sharpens the demise.
BDS is not a plea—it is a spear.
Each boycott cracks the Necrocracy’s spine.
The truth is not a wound—it is a sear.
And every word you read? It’s gasoline.
So burn their lies. Let Gaza’s cry be heard—
Not "Never again," but "NOW NO MORE."
The world’s on trial. Wake. Repeat each word.
And when they beg for mercy? Lock the door.
You’ve read this far. Now feel your fists ignite.
The poem’s done—but you? You are the fight.
—Whalid Safodien
The Feather Pen
