The least that can be said

It is not a war like all the wars that humanity has witnessed, nor is it a battle like all the battles that armies have fought over the decades. Rather, it is a mobile killing in which the victims take refuge in their nightclothes with their children, women, grandfathers, and grandmothers to the final wall. They have nothing but their bleeding blood and the pain that they suffer in the death rows until their turn comes on the stove. The expressions have exploded, and all the languages of the world are no longer able to provide a description of the horrors of the Day of Resurrection that the victims have been suffering from.

Who will stop the Holocaust? Who curbs the lust of murderers? Who saves children from hell? Who will provide relief to the thirsty, the sick, the wounded, the hungry and the afflicted?

Questions that shake the conscience and shake the soul to its core, as we see bleeding blood, parched hearts, scattered body parts, demolished buildings, and shattered streets, and the dead in the cemeteries were not spared from the killers.

Food and fuel ran out, water ran out, and hospitals became out of service after their last food artery (the Rafah crossing) was cut off.

It is the last call to those trapped in hell.. Stop the Holocaust.. Stop the murderers.. Enough.. Enough.. Enough!!