Nakba’s Cry, Hope’s Light<br /><br />On fifteenth May, the echoes weep,<br /><br />A land once whole, now torn so deep.<br /><br />Families scattered, homes erased,<br /><br />A sorrowed past, a loss embraced.<br />The olive trees in silence stand,<br /><br />Their roots still clutch the broken land.<br /><br />Tears like rivers carve the sand,<br /><br />Where children’s laughter once had spanned.<br />The keys they hold, a promise keep,<br /><br />Through years of exile, hearts still weep.<br /><br />Yet in the night, a whispered dream,<br /><br />Of love reborn in moonlight’s gleam.<br />A hope remains where ruin lay,<br /><br />That dawn will bring a kinder day.<br /><br />That hands once forced to wave goodbye,<br /><br />Will build again, with heads held high.<br />For peace may bloom where sorrow grew,<br /><br />And home return to those it knew.<br /><br />A future safe, where children play,<br /><br />Beneath the olive’s gentle sway.<br />
