Poetry: Ashraf AboArafe
O nation lost upon the road of pain,
Scattered between the blade and silent rain.
Was I a voice dissolved within your hush,
Or just a wound you chose not to sustain?
I said: tears alone are not our shield,
Yet your steps faltered, your will unsealed.
You left the fire to consume our home,
And flames remember nothing they have killed.
You heard my cry—trembling, yet clear—
Why did no answer reach my ear?
I was but a call for dignity,
A spark for souls imprisoned by fear.
If I should fall, my blood will speak,
While silence brands the hearts that are weak.
And you will know, when trials arise,
Division was the end you seek.
This is my will—do not let it fade,
For tears, once I’m gone, will not heal what was made.
