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Walid Abdallah Dec 2024
Hug
The hug, the smallest space, yet vast and wide,
Contains the greatest feelings deep inside.

A symbol of love, need, and joy’s embrace,
Of fear, desire, and life’s most tender grace.

It’s where the body and the soul entwine,
A sacred touch, a moment so divine.

To cast your pain and burdens all away,
In arms of love, let anguish go astray.

Within that hold, as time begins to cease,
A fleeting pause of warmth and inner peace.

Though brief, its power lingers in the heart,
The hug’s small space makes wholeness never part.

In such embrace, no matter what we show,
We’re children still, with hearts that overflow.
Walid Abdallah Nov 2024
The poet, once a pauper, yet bold and true,
Had nothing but verses, the world to construe.
She, my love, born to fortune's embrace,
Found love, not wealth, her ultimate grace.

One day, he spoke with a heart weighed and torn,
"To wed thee, love, I am too forlorn.
I lack the means to offer a vow."
But steadfast, she answered, "We’ll wed anyhow."

"With me," he warned, "thy joys shall decay,
For I own not even the bread of the day."
But she, undaunted, with courage replied,
"I’d suffer alone, though my wealth is my guide."

And thus they were wed, a union divine,
A love forged in truths that both did refine.
For he whispered words so pure and sincere,
"I seek no vanity nor pleasures mere,

But a bond wherein my soul may confide,
As though with myself in a room closed inside."
Walid Abdallah Nov 2024
تحت المطر، حيث الأحلام تُمزَّق،
يخفق قلب فلسطين، منهكًا ومعتق.
عبر حقول الألم، حيث الظلال تسري،
أطفال الأمل ينامون رغم المأسي.
شجرة الزيتون تهمس، ثابتة وجليلة،
جذورها تحكي حكايا العصور الطويلة.
الأرض تصبر على كل دمعة وأنين،
تحت سماء داكنة، تراقب الحنين.
ضحكات خافتة، وإن كانت نائية،
تذكر العالم بزرعهم، أمانيهم الباقية.
بين الأنقاض، يمشون بوقار وثبات،
أملٌ راسخ لا تزعزعه الأزمات.
القمر يشهد، والنجوم تصطفُّ،
تقود دعاء فلسطين الذي يُرفّ.
مع كل دمعة تُروى بها الرمال،
تزهر وعدًا يعيد حقًا للأوطان.
يا فلسطين، لن يستسلم روحك أبدًا،
مصيرك منقوش، رغم كل العدا.
أطفالك سينهضون، صوتك سيعلو،
والسلام سيعود إلى شطآنك الأسمى.
رغم العواصف، ورغم طول الليالي،
قلبك ينبض قويًا، بإيمان لا يبالي.
تهدم الملاجئ، لكن الأرواح لا تنكسر،
عزيمة الحرية في كل قلب تُدثَّر.
شجرة الزيتون تقف، وإن كانت جريحة،
رمز للصمود، قوة صريحة.
في ظلال الجدران، يبنون أغاني،
للعدالة والسلام، لإنهاء المعاني.
يا فلسطين، ستنهض حكايتك الخالدة،
مكتوبة في نجوم السماء الممتدة.
Walid Abdallah Nov 2024
Beneath the rain, where dreams are torn,
Palestine’s heart beats, weary and worn.

Through fields of pain, where shadows creep,
The children of hope still dare to sleep.

The olive tree whispers, steadfast and strong,
Its roots hold stories of ages long.

The land endures each tear and cry,
Under the watch of a darkened sky.

The echoes of laughter, though faint and low,
Remind the world of the seeds they sow.

Through rubble and ruin, they walk with grace,
A steadfast hope no force can erase.

The moon bears witness, the stars align,
Guiding the prayers of Palestine.

For every tear that wets the sand,
A promise blooms to reclaim the land.

Oh Palestine, your soul won’t yield,
Through every battle, your fate is sealed.

Your children will rise, your voice will soar,
Peace will return to your sacred shore.

Though storms may batter, and nights grow long,
Your heart beats steady, your spirit strong.

Shelters collapse, but spirits don’t fade,
Freedom’s resolve in every soul laid.

The olive tree stands, though battered and bruised,
A symbol of strength no war can abuse.

In shadows of walls, they build their song,
For justice and peace to right the wrong.

Oh Palestine, your story will rise,
Written in stars and boundless skies.
Walid Abdallah Nov 2024
Upon my hand, the mint tea spilled and burned,
In flames and pain, my love to ash was turned.
I watched the scar, the rising smoke and flame,
And wondered why such harm from love became.

How fiercely can the things we cherish sting—
This bitter truth that hurtful moments bring.
That day, I mourned a sorrow deep and wide:
The tea I loved held no love to confide.
Walid Abdallah Nov 2024
How strange it seems that still my heart should yearn,
For those beside me, whom I seek, and spurn.

I ask of them from those who cross my sight,
Though they walk with me, like shadows in the light.

My eyes pursue them, though they're close at hand,
As if their nearness slips like grains of sand.

They dwell within the blackness of my eyes,
Yet still, in longing, every heartbeat sighs.

My heart aches for them, though they're near to stay,
So close to my ribs, yet they drift away.

In every breath, their absence burns anew,
They are my presence, yet I bid adieu.

What spell bewitches so the soul to pine,
For company that's here, yet lost in time?

Within my core, their essence does reside,
Yet longing forms, an ache I cannot hide.

Strange fate! To feel such yearning’s endless plight,
To hold them close, yet miss them out of sight.

For though their presence graces my embrace,
My soul still chases what it cannot trace.
Walid Abdallah Nov 2024
Through trials fierce, the world did test my soul,
Denied me joy that others find as whole.

Life stood against me, fierce and ever cold,
And burdens deep on fragile shoulders rolled.

I’ve seen betrayal, hate, and envy’s fire,
Yet still, I stand, though weary and so dire.

With strength unbending, though my choices failed,
I fought for kindness, though none prevailed.

Each hope I breathed, life crushed with ruthless hand,
But I press on, though storms don’t heed my stand.

I pray for peace, for rest in days to come,
For blessings true to ease what I've become.
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