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Inspired by the story of a Syrian boy refugee in Israel. |
He's just a flower bloomed anew Hidden through a foliage of war; He's never seen a sky so blue Nor the beauty of a star. A flower kept so hidden So must he never fall, But blood in his sanctuary was laden; He saw red, black, nothing and all. The wind is gushing back and forth, And where this little flower may lay? By the swirling of the gale, Where he'll be at the dusk of the day? To a world he'd never known, Such fate had let him land; Could this be a world of his own, Somewhere, someone understands. He lived keeping silence, keeping low; A help and peace he'd hope, A faith that someone, a smile could bestow; In that invisible string of hope he'd grope. Yet no one cast a glance on him Or rather see but hurts they throw; His fragile heart was aching More than any depth of pain and sorrow. A flicker of hope was vanished; Eyes closed, a soul was trapped; Siren of screams from afar was relinquished; Red, black... hope...... and black. Into a deep abyss he's falling undue, Could there be once more a light? For he's just a little whithering, but beautiful flower bloomed anew, Will he live..... or will he die? |