Artist: Claudia Farese, Flyers for Falastin

Lonely, I walk through my sorrowful land,
Where dreams are throttled by a harsh hand.
Rubble everywhere I turn my eye,
Debris of my beloved city cries hope’s a lie.
In ruthless heat, my people crouch in tents,
Where dust and despair surround as a fence —
Despair of life, or even of the world,
That lets them suffer for that long.

I saw a child with a tearful face,
Waiting in a line beneath the blaze.
Clutching a pole with blurred sight,
His childhood was stolen by a cruel blight.
Beside him limps a youth with a shaky crutch,
He paid the price — it cost too much.
His leg is gone, he asks why,
Too young, he’s learned how dreams can die.

A mother, bent over, trembling in place,
Her baby held in her embrace.
All faces pale, all bellies bare,
Grief is a language they all share.

At night, when the dark takes hold,
We share our fears like we share our food.
A blast smashes the silence of night
— with no warning — and we ask,
Who didn’t make it till morning?

A father wishes to surrender, yet must fight,
Fight to survive and feed his child.
He questions what sin he’s committed, yet again,
To deserve all of that pain.

My single cry of justice — enough please!
Enough of wars, we hunger for peace.
For time to rest, for time to heal —
From wounds no soul can bear.