In chilling echoes, they preach not to weep,
But what of innocence, in chaos, we keep?
A child's grasp shattered, despair in the air,
Under ruins, a soul stripped, laid bare.
In war's cruel dance, they spout spilled milk's refrain,
Yet each life lost mocks, a cruel, heartless game.
In a world consumed by whispers, we plead and mourn,
Not just lost, but shattered, torn.
Tales of spilled coffee once brought delight,
But this last sip, bitter in fading twilight,
An elder's love poured in every cup,
Now silenced, entombed, buried deep, built up.
The world turns a deaf ear to our cries,
Innocence withers, within silent goodbyes.
Not just the fallen, but the ones pleading,
In a world where dreams lie shattered, bleeding.
Authored by a Palestinian woman currently living in Palestine, who chooses to stay anonymous in genuine fear that if she shared her full name and bio, she and her family may be targeted even more than they currently are for sharing their lived truths and realities.
