This poetry, Widows' Doomsday, is similar only to the eyes of a woman whom people left in Baghdad. The woman who kissed us hastily, saying, "don't go there." She begged us with eyes that nurtured her sadness and agony...failed to realize that the country, the country that grew in our hearts, which was once full of love, is stomping on the lover's hearts with its seven thousand¬-year-old boots of agony. She did not believe, until this very moment, how the years of this tremendous love have turned into the years of tremendous killing, war, and destruction. The woman who kissed us hastily could not believe that this text had whipped our feelings with the whip of poetry for many years, and went through a lot of torture and terror.
