From ancient lands, a story told,
Of olive branches, brave and bold.
Palestine, a name that cries,
Beneath the weight of tear-filled skies.
Her fields once green, now scarred and torn,
Her people scattered, hearts forlorn.
A longing echoes, deep and low,
For peace to bloom, and seeds to sow.
The walls they rise, a painful sight,
Dividing families, day and night.
But hope remains, a flickering flame,
A dream of freedom, whispered name.
Through hardship borne and struggles faced,
A resilient spirit, interlaced.
With love for land and ancient lore,
They yearn for peace, and nothing more.
From distant shores, the voices call,
For justice, fairness, for one and all.
May peace descend, like gentle rain,
And heal the wounds, and ease the pain.
Sehrab Sathoo
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Author:
Sehrab Sathoo (
Offline) - Published: February 13th, 2025 01:00
- Comment from author about the poem: "This poem is my attempt to capture the pain and hope I feel for Palestine. I know words can't fully express the reality of the situation, but I hope this small offering brings a sense of connection and solidarity."
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 28
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence, Sehrab Sathoo, johnmiller, johanfried, Soman Ragavan
Offline)
Comments3
A beautiful poem about a troubled land and people where pain is a daily reminder of a world with different priorities than the well being of people.
A beautiful poem speaking and reminding people of the pain and suffering still being suffered on a daily basis, enjoyed the read.
Beautifully written
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