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The land drinks deeply of sorrow's flood,
Streets stained with tears, and with blood,
Laughter silenced by the thunder’s roar,
Dreams extinguished behind the war’s door.
The youth, the heirs to tomorrow's song,
Stand as witnesses to all that is wrong.
They cradle their dead, their friends, their kin,
Yet find no respite from the horror within.
Their eyes are mirrors, reflecting the cost,
Of innocence torn, of futures lost.
And still, they rise, fragile yet strong,
Bearing burdens they should not for long.
In the rubble where homes once stood,
In the cries of despair misunderstood,
They find whispers of a world reborn,
From the ashes of all that is torn.
For even as darkness swallows the light,
A spark remains to pierce the night.
Let us not turn from their weary cries,
Or avert our gaze from the endless skies
That mourn with them, that bear their pain,
And yet promise that hope will remain.
For to see their struggle and feel their plight,
Is to claim our place in this endless fight.
Resilience is the seed that grows,
Even where war’s wind fiercely blows.
In their hearts, a trembling flame,
That dares to whisper love's name.
Though fear may grip, and death may loom,
Their spirits defy this living tomb.
To the youth, who face this storm with grace,
Who carry scars that time won’t erase,
You are the light that darkness fears,
The resolute amidst the tears.
Though we are fractured, and justice delayed,
Through you, we rise; through you, we are made.
May the world see what you endure,
And let your courage be the cure.
For even in the deepest despair,
The will to hope lingers there.
We stand with you, unbowed, unbent,
For peace, for love—a testament.
So march, young hearts, though shadows loom,
Through fields of grief, through halls of gloom.
For every step, though fraught with pain,
Brings us closer to hope’s refrain.
The world will tremble; the world will cry,
But your spirit ensures it will not die.
Civitasvox
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