Gaza, muslimhero

Lost love from our human kind,
Entrench our minds,
In solo deep ravines of a melancholic kind,
Lost and never will find,
The fantasy of our divine,
Instead, it’s a long long thread line,
Broken at the middle,
This plight of a Muslim cry,
Is the subject of my riddle,
I say nigh,
Is the hour of victory the more we die,
But a rot article,
Of Gaza find,
Our minds,
Fell into an abyss of the melancholic kind,
Lost and never will find,
Our tranquil human kind,
The agony resides,
In an arch of our heart’s bitter and painful side,
And besides,
The ever constricting heart walls inside,
Engulfed in a grotesque,
Of our bitter conscious side,
Haunting in a desolate garden of a melancholic kind,
Lost and never will find,
That love in our past human kind,
Man severs man,
The grief, the moment of zero relief,
Child’s symphonic hymns,
Ceases to be,
The heart purges bitter rhymes,
Israeli death chimes;
And away with the symphonic hymns,
Our hearts desolate in a dungeon of bleak melancholic kind,
Lost and never will find,
Our neighborly blissful kind.