O Lord of soldiers and servants, accept from me, I am the son of Khairia, the daughter of Hussain, who cried for the first time in your life on the fifth of April at the end of World War II, in Mesopotamia, while his family were being slaughtered under the pretext of sect.

 I offer you my supplication and intercession for the Persian Safavid Sheikh Ali Al-Husseini Khamenei, who is coming to you in his coming days.

 O owner of all faces and without a face, Khamenei has made of your name and the name of your righteous friends a double-sided coin, and made of you a whip and a key to death.  In your name crushed armored soldiers bones of our people and our brothers.

 My God, open the widest doors for him, and enlist your demons to help him carry him, for he is an old man, burdened with sins as many as the hairs of his beard.

 My God, we are the sons of your holy valley, the sons of your holy valley, sons of thousands of centuries, we have known neither mercy in our lives, nor peace, I beg of you to take him by the hand to his early days to recognize the faces of his murderers, victims of his dark prisons and deep dungeons, baptized with their blood to be healed of hatred in himself, open  He has all the windows to hear Kokosh against his will. He hates music;  The Fradic music that we hear all the time comes from your skies, your forests, your seas, your wind...

 Teach him how to love, how to think like the sons of Adam, how to eat his fatty morsel in the presence of the hungry.  take him there;  To the wretched villages and place him among the destitute, deprive him of the wine that he dreamed of all his life, dear one, for he was not addicted to it like we are, and he gave him a dren of stagnant blood.

 My God, Ali Al-Husseini Khamenei will come to you naked as his mother gave birth to him, bare bones, emaciated flesh, shivering with fear and cold, take him and warm him with what your hell is good for!

   Installation by Amir Khatib