Aleppo

"Her husbands to Aleppo gone
Master o the Tiger."

What Aleppo conjures me
Not of bombs and rockets
But of witches on a blasted heath
Images of evil plotters
Making prophecies of death
Not so different I suppose
To the reality.
And of a rat without a tail
"I'll do, I'll do I'll do"
The three weird sisters cry.
"And by  the pricking of my thumbs
Something wicked this way comes."
And who will gainsay that?
How strange the words
That echo down history.
And so we have it in our hearts to pray
For Aleppo and its sufferings today.

JL July 27 14:06