Lost Words, Fading Hope

From which chapter do I initiate,

To narrate the saga of my ancestors,

To convey a story,

Once again reduced to a few numbers on a page?

From which lexicon do I draw my words?

How do I commence my prayers?

And how does my DNA carry the cries of my ancestors?

Beloved Gaza,

I embrace your children,

They live deep in my heart,

Dancing, playing, praying, fighting,

Only to be shattered into fragments.

I hoped to never discover that,

A lifeless child,

Could resemble my doll so closely.

I scream with all my might,

Overwhelmed by anger,

Yet paralyzed with grief,

Furious,

My soul sinks into the darkest depths of my being,

Still under the rubble,

No air, 

Only gray cement. 

No fuel for machines to operate.

I weep for mutated cells,

Materializing into a monstrous tumor,

Holding the trauma of my lineage,

Devouring their light,

Eating at my search for hope,

For children to come.

I wear a facade to confront,

A world ablaze with demons,

Masquerading as humans,

And English words elude me,

In describing the demise of our shared humanity.

Beloved Gaza, 

I am filled with remorse, 

Forgive me!