In Shadows of Sorrow

In the shadows of sorrow, under a grieving sky,
Lies a land where echoes of anguish never die.
Palestine, oh weeping land, where tears like rivers flow,
Where the heartbeats of the innocent, face a ceaseless woe.

Through streets scarred by sorrow, under siege of endless night,
Lives a tale of relentless pain, a struggle out of sight.
Each day awakens to the sound of heartache’s cruel blast,
A symphony of devastation, echoes of a troubled past.

In the cradle of ancient olive trees, now touched by sorrow’s hand,
Lie the dreams of shattered families, scattered like grains of sand.
The air, heavy with despair, carries unspoken cries,
Of mothers mourning their lost children, under watchful skies.

In the rubble of broken homes, amidst the debris of life,
The numbers of the fallen grow, in this endless strife.
Innocent souls, women and children, casualties of a silent war,
Their stories untold, their voices unheard, like whispers on the shore.

The world turns its gaze, often blind, to this ceaseless plight,
As days bleed into nights, under the shroud of an endless night.
But in the heart of each victim, the memory remains,
A testament to the pain endured, the unending strains.

Oh Palestine, land of the forgotten, your agony deeply etched,
In the lines of time, in the world’s conscience, forever sketched.
May the winds of change, one day come, bringing solace to your door,
And may peace find its way to you, ending the perpetual war.

In this ode to your suffering, a prayer silently weaves,
For a dawn of understanding, where no more heart grieves.
Until then, your story of pain, in our hearts will resonate,
A reminder of the cost of war, the heavy price of hate.