Sat amidst in warplace, a dwelling is wondering Mists and screams, solemn and cries, hovering, It's a habitat of the concrete itself, Saw the habitants, leaving and suffering. It never aged, as the situation of this Holy Land has been full of Tags and Toes, “Paradise on Earth”, the huge contrast, only this Dwelling knows, The cluster of bricks, still standing with Hope It's habitants might return, incarnating David Diop. It has seen firearms, heard protests, felt the terror, witnessed percussions Now it craves for arms, feet, and tears of an infant and it's nurturers.