The Gaza never cry

In the arms of the crescent moon,
Where olive trees sang softly in tune,
Now silence screeches through the broken stone,
And mothers weep for sons never grown.

The skies rain fire, not gentle dew,
But still, hearts beat loud in every shoe.
A child with dreams, a father's call,
Still walks the dust where angels fall.

But Gaza, brave, unbridled and unbent,
Bears her hope like a firmament.
Bombs might break the walls outside,
But her soul shines, she won't be denied.

One day the walls will fall away,
And morning light will rise and lay.
Until then, her name we will say with pride—
Gaza lives. Gaza will not hide.