O Palestine

In the land where olive trees weep,

And whispers of sorrow forever creep,

There lies a tale of ancient plight,

In Palestine's heart, where darkness alights.

Beneath the azure skies, a land torn,

By strife and anguish, history worn,

Where children's laughter fades to wails,

Amidst the rubble, hope's frail sails.

The sunsets bleed in hues of red,

As tears of mothers remain unshed,

Their eyes reflect the shattered dreams,

Of generations torn at the seams.

In Gaza's streets, where silence screams,

And echoes haunt the broken beams,

Lies the anguish of a people's song,

Injustice's echo, relentless and long.

In every stone, a story etched,

Of resilience, though hope be fetched,

Yet each dawn dawns with sorrow's crest,

In Palestine, a land oppressed.

Oh, Palestine, land of ancient lore,

Your scars run deep, your spirit sore,

But amidst the ruins, a flicker glows,

Of a resilience that forever flows.

May peace descend like gentle rain,

To wash away the marks of pain,

And in your soil, may flowers bloom,

A testament to hope's enduring tune.

But till that day, we weep with you,

For every loss, for every rue,

In poems of sadness, our voices blend,

For Palestine, until the end.