In shadows cast by broken walls, they weep,
Where ancient olive trees their vigils keep.
Through dust and rubble, whispered cries ascend,
As hopes and dreams in sorrow meet their end.
The land, once kissed by sun\'s golden embrace,
Now bears the scars of time, a haunting trace.
Where children\'s laughter once danced in the air,
Now echoes of anguish, heavy with despair.
In Gaza\'s streets, where silence screams aloud,
Where shattered homes stand like silent shrouds,
The souls of martyrs linger in the haze,
Their voices silenced, lost in endless maze.
Palestinian skies, once azure, now bleed,
With tears of mothers, for their children\'s need.
Their stories etched in every tear-stained stone,
A legacy of loss, forever known.
Yet amidst the darkness, a flicker remains,
A flame of resilience, despite the chains.
For even in the depths of darkest night,
Hope whispers softly, a beacon of light.
Though the pain may linger, and the wounds run deep,
Their spirit endures, their courage to keep.
For in their struggle, a testament stands,
To human resilience in these barren lands.
So let us remember, and let us weep,
For those who in silence their vigils keep.
May their cries be heard, their suffering seen,
And may justice reign where once despair had been.