Awaken, O Humanity

The sky weeps over Gaza’s ruins,
ashes smother the breath of dawn.
Streets that once rang with children’s laughter
now echo only with the wail of loss.

The world watches—mute, unmoved,
turning from the cries of the buried,
from trembling hands clutching at bread,
from eyes too hollow to weep.

O humanity, where is your heart?
Can you not feel the weight of graves
piled upon graves,
names erased before they could be spoken?

The bombs do not ask for names.
They do not care if the child beneath the rubble
dreamed of the sea, of books, of kites—
they only fall, and the world looks away.

But history will not.
The stones will remember,
the wind will carry the whispers of silence—
a complicity as deadly as the fire.

Awaken, O humanity, before it is too late.
Let not your soul become another grave,
let not your silence arm the oppressor.
Speak, rise, act—lest history etch your name in shame.

—MyKoul