The Wounds of Discord

War, the storm that rends the land,
Blood on soil, by ruthless hand.
The cries of mothers, the orphaned weep,
A scar on hearts, a wound too deep.

Yet justice calls, when honor is torn,
To rise and fight, though hearts are worn.
Oh Allah, guide the sword that shields,
And grant the brave the righteous fields.

But peace remains the greater goal,
To mend the heart, to heal the soul.
Oh Allah, end all strife and hate,
And guide us to a peaceful state.