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Dear Readers, 

                     Let the butchers know that this is not the sad wailing of a fearful soul but I sing and shall continue to sing loud in praise and in honor of an indefatigable spirit. 

               Thou art the ruins of the noblest man, 

               That ever lived in the tide of times, 

               Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!

                The blood from the mortal remains of Khaled al-Asaad did not just spill over the dusty plateau of Tadmur but it percolated deep down below to sow the seeds of millions and trillions of tiny offshoots of freedom and liberty. 

                      There are losses which touch you, which shatter you, which make you lose hope, which enrage you but far greater in intensity are the losses which embolden your faith and resolve and purpose of existence. Such a loss gives you wings to fly into the face of death in defiance of any brute force which attempts to bar you from your own self. 

                 For generations to come, for eons to pass by, civilizations and cultures shall hold dear to themselves the episode and the event of the shahadat or martyrdom of Mr. Assad, a devoted archaeologist and historian that the world was fortunate to have heard of. Glory to you Sir! Glory shall be your servant for infinity as you relish the honor and privilege of being a historian who stood smilingly at the intersection of history and manhood......I pay homage to thee...Salute from a fellow from the desert!

                In memory of Mr. Khaled al-Assad, the dutiful Syrian archaeologist and historian who was inhumanely murdered by ISIS jihadists on August 18, 2015.