As the onslaught against civilians in Gaza continues here is a poem by writer Ali Cheema on the bombing of Gaza.

The sirens keep going off, explosions get louder, then bitter silence followed by a deafening cry

Another busy night, mayhem everywhere but get ready, all we can do is try

The chaos begins, too many are coming in, proving impossible to manage, let’s keep striving

Come on put the baby inside me, that’s my job, to settle her, to stop her from crying

At first it was an influx of people from nearby but now I’m confused, they’re attacking us

I thought we’re a hospital, surely the world won’t stand for this and will create a fuss

Not even a blink, as we dodge the bullets, and wonder can this really be real

I’m just a machine, we didn’t sign up for this, our job is to mend and heal

My brave colleagues know what’s around the corner – but still refuse to leave

Days and nights, weeks and months, no respite – not even a temporary reprieve

Doctors and nurses fighting frantically to keep people alive

Battling away doing their best, unsure if their nearest and dearest will even survive

Hold on you can’t do that, I only have space inside me for one

The poor doctor throws another baby on top – desperate the night has just begun

 Oh no, he’s only taking one out, the first baby, another innocent just died

Another family incomplete, how to proceed, no comfort can we provide

Yet again I realise that I have failed in my obligation

To protect someone so young, the purest of God’s creation

I keep telling myself, consoling myself saying it’s out of my hands

They keep switching the power off, the baby’s mother understands

Zzzz, I feel the power going again, as this baby also gasps its last breaths

Surely, it’s not just the baby that dies, but the world morality that dies - many deaths.