The Unbroken Cry Of Palestine Poem by Yousif Ibrahim Abubaker Abdalla

This is not merely war.
This is a storm that eats childhood.
In Gaza,
the sky has forgotten mercy.
It rains fire.
It rains iron.
It rains names that will never be called again.
Children small, innocent, breathing verses of hope are silenced beneath collapsing roofs.
Their laughter, once brighter than the sun,
is buried under concrete and dust.
Toys lie beside shattered glass.
Cradles stand empty.
School desks wait for hands that will never return.
Entire streets are erased.
Buildings that once held stories, dreams, Qur'ans on wooden shelves, family photos framed with pride are reduced to ash and broken stone.
Hospitals tremble.
Ambulances scream.
Mothers wail with a grief that shakes the heavens.
The earth of Palestine is heavy with martyrs,
heavy with blood,
heavy with prayers whispered through smoke.
And the living?
They walk with the weight of loss carved into their faces.
They carry children in one arm and memories in the other.
They flee with nothing but keys.
keys to homes that no longer exist.
Displacement is exile written on the skin.
It is sleeping under foreign skies
while your heart remains buried in your homeland.
It is becoming a refugee in your own story.
O Al-Aqsa Mosque,
be guarded by the Lord of the heavens.
May your stones remain unshaken
though the world trembles.
O Allah,
You are Al-‘Adl
The Most Just.
You are Al-Hafeez,
The Protector.
Shield Gaza with Your mercy.
Wrap Palestine in Your divine protection.
Heal the wounded.
Comfort the orphan.
Strengthen the oppressed.
Bring an end to the hands that destroy
and raise up hands that rebuild.
Let justice rise like a thunder that cannot be silenced.
Let peace descend not as a whisper but as a command.
And let Palestine stand scarred, grieving, unbroken until dawn finally breaks
over a land that has endured too much night.