From Palestine, With Blood

I stand not only as a Muslim,
But as a human being.
My heart beats not just for my own,
But for every soul fleeing.

My solidarity is not selective,
Not confined to faith or face,
I stand wherever oppression reigns,
In every stolen place.

Native Americans in the U.S.,
First Nations of Canada,
Aboriginal souls in Australia,
Massacres brushed aside, their world order.

Genocides denied in courts,
History bruised and bent,
Truth buried under silence,
With no world to repent.

And now, again, before our eyes,
A genocide unfolds.
They call it “war,” a “conflict,”
While the death count coldly rolls.

Fifty thousand lives erased,
Eighteen thousand children gone.
Brushed off as mere “collateral,”
Blamed on Hamas - as bombs roll on.

I turn to those who cherish life,
Not those who deal in death.
To voices bold who speak the truth,
Not ones who waste their breath.

They guard their ranks, protect their pay,
While innocents lose theirs.
This world has traded human lives,
For seats and empty chairs.

The ICJ has made it clear,
Genocide is at hand.
But Israel did not stop,
Instead, they scorched the land.

They drive the people up and down,
From north to south they run.
Each “safe zone” marked by bombs and ash,
No shelter. Nowhere. None.

I never thought I’d live to see
This horror in full view.
Yet worse - it is the silence
That breaks the heart in two.

The UN hides.
The OIC remains an empty barrel.
And those who claim humanity,
Now mute with fear, tremble.

Empathy’s become a crime,
A symptom of “the unwell.”
Speak truth, they’ll call you mental,
Join a peaceful protest - end up in a cell.

Support is banned, protest condemned,
Our grief, they dare to frame,
As “dangerous,” “disruptive,” or,
A threat that we should tame.

Leaders refuse to act,
Call genocide a “family dispute.”
They give us hollow statements,
Then tell us: stay silent, still, and mute.

Our Asatizah cook on screen,
While Gaza’s kitchens burn.
In Ramadan, we dance at Expo,
While Gaza's children don’t return.

The Muslim world fills bazaars wide,
With music, lights, and cheer.
As infants gasp beneath rubble and smoke,
And no one stops to hear.

Our voices should have broken through,
Our silence overturned.
But comfort made us turn away,
While Gaza’s fate was churned.

Humanity is fading.
Empathy disappears.
The world grows numb to suffering,
To mothers' endless tears.

Standing with Palestine
Does not divide or harm.
It strengthens truth, it dignifies,
It raises the alarm.

True unity is built on this:
To name the wrong as wrong.
To break the silence, stand for life not death,
And carry justice strong.

But silence is complicity.
And comfort can betray.
To live untouched while others burn,
What will our descendants say?

The world bends low to Israel’s hand,
Its leaders bow and stall.
No force is sent, no justice served,
No answer to the call.

History will judge again,
But we are not in books.
We’re here, we see, we know, we breathe,
And still, the world just looks.

To my child and the ones to come,
Let silence not be yours.
Let courage bloom where fear would choke,
Let justice open doors.

Do not wait for history,
It’s written by the brave.
And those who choose to speak today,
Are those who choose to save.

And may the cries from Gaza’s night,
Not return to us in blame.
A haunting echo of our silence,
A legacy of shame.

And I end with the words of a Gazan child,
From under skies turned grey:
“If only you had seen us,
You would realize your worship is mere play.”

Palestine will be free.

By: Aydarus Alhabshi
March 2025 / Ramadan 1446