There is something inside of us. I don’t know what it is
It’s too deep, too strong, too prevailing in each vein
It’s because of it we are still alive, or…
Still fighting to find one
It’s the insistence of your slumbering eyes to pass by three military check-points reaching your school before the dawn
It’s the tenderness of your brother’s last smile after his body was shattered by 21 bullets
It’s in my own strength to deliver my soul under the ground with him, and my head is up high… my son is a ray from the sun… my son is a martyr
It’s inside your grandmother’s palms that gathered the ruins of her house seven times
It’s in the choked air between the crowded walls of the refugee camps, the one that holds the smell of the warriors
It is there, breathing on the dry bones of those living in cold cells and their blue fingers habitually knit the map of Palestine on the dark walls
It’s the sanctity of their hearts, praying in Al-Aqsa mosque while the guns beleaguer their heads
It is the innocence of a child playing with his kite to cover the jet strikes
It’s the birth of 5300 child after 2140 were killed in the last war of Gaza
Side note: we will never end.
It’s in our eternal belief, our mobilized voice… freedom
It’s in the urge of our damaged, suppressed, broken, wounded, stolen, poisoned, paralyzed, imprisoned, chained, besieged, shot, burned, battered, cut, hurt, exiled, drowned, thirsty, OCCUPIED lungs to breath HOPE !
It’s too deep, too strong, too prevailing in each vein
It’s our kind of love…
