Woe Unto The Silent World

Woe unto America, woe unto Israel,  
For the blood that soaks Gaza’s sacred ground—  
For fire rained down from iron skies,  
And children laid to rest without a sound.  

Woe unto the Arab kings, once bold,  
Now hushed behind gilded thrones of shame—  
Their silence screams above the graves,  
Their crowns weighed down by martyrs’ names.  

Woe unto the world that turned away,  
That trades in gold while flesh is sold—  
That preaches peace with hollow tongue,  
Yet buys the lies, and blood runs cold.  

Woe unto us all, who let it be,  
The siege, the cries, the scorched, the starved—  
Who murmured pity, but stood aside  
As justice drowned in bombs unchallenged.  

Who now will speak for the stolen breath?  
Who now will stand for the scarred, the dead?  
Or will the ages whisper low:  
*"Mankind was lost—its conscience fled."*  

—MyKoul