Palestine

In the quiet shadows of olive trees,

Where history breathes in every leaf's sigh,

There lies a land, a heart, a plea,

A canvas painted with dreams that won’t die.

From the rugged hills to the azure sea,

Palestine sings a song of strife,

A melody rich in sorrow yet free,

Echoing tales of love, of joy, and of life.

From the ashes of homes, where laughter once rang,

Rise the spirits of children, fierce and bright,

In the rubble, where echoes of gunfire sang,

Their hopes shine through with undying light.

Oh, the architects of despair may plan,

Yet, the heart of the people shall not yield,

For beneath the soil, like seeds in the sand,

Lie stories of strength that the world has concealed.

In Gaza, the whispers of poets resound,

Every stanza a testament, a passionate call,

Through verses of anguish, a hope unbound,

In a land where the shadows of loss loom tall.

Refaat Alareer spoke of words like wings,

Stripping the veil from the silent cries,

And with every poem, the spirit clings,

To the vision of freedom that never truly dies.

“We teach life, Sir,” said Rafeef Ziadah,

In a world that tries to drown their truth,

From every bomb, the flowers will spread,

Like petals of resilience, reborn from the youth.

With watermelons painted in colors so bright,

A defiance wrapped in vibrant flares,

Each fruit represents a life, a right,

To stand tall amidst the world's cold glares.

As dawn breaks over the mountain's crest,

Hope flickers like a candle in the dark,

Each day, a battle—a quest for rest,

Every heartbeat a promise, every breath a spark.

So let the world listen, let their hearts feel,

For in every wound lies a story to tell,

Palestine endures, a spirit of steel,

With love as their armor, they rise, they rebel.

From the river to the sea, their voices unite,

An anthem of justice, of peace, and of pride,

With every line, they reclaim their light,

Through struggles and trials, they stand side by side.

In the tapestry of life where despair may weave,

Palestine breathes, in its beauty we believe,

In the olive tree fields, through thick and through thin,

A testament to the spirit that shall always win.