They call you broken, shattered, torn,
A land of scars, of nights forlorn.
But they have never walked your streets,
Felt the warmth where strangers meet.
They do not know the scent of thyme,
The echoes of an oud in time,
The voices rising with the breeze,
Like whispered prayers in cedar trees.
They say your people burn with rage,
A storm confined within a cage.
But I have seen their laughter rise,
Like sunlight spilling from their eyes.
I have seen hands, rough yet kind,
Give their last, leave none behind.
Even when the cupboards bare,
A seat is saved, a meal is shared.
You build from dust with borrowed thread,
You carry dreams where others fled.
Your streets may crack, your lights may fade,
Yet in the dark, no soulâs betrayed.
The morning hums with Fairuzâ song,
A melody both soft and strong.
She sings of love, she sings of pain,
And somehow, we all heal again.
Your sunsets set the sky on fire,
Batrounâs waves reflect their pyre.
Byblos whispers tales of old,
Its stones still bathed in dusk-lit gold.
Baalbek stands, unshaken, proud,
Its ruins draped in crimson shroud.
While in the caves of Jeita deep,
The rivers dream, the echoes weep.
At 2 AM, the beaches glow,
With voices light, with footsteps slow.
As if the night refused to end,
As if the stars were still our friend.
Your mountains stand, unbowed, untamed,
Your sea still sings, though tides have changed.
The air still hums with jasmineâs breath,
A place where life outdances death.
How weddings turn to city choirs,
How grief is met with arms, not fires.
How even when the times are cruel,
The streets will fill, the hearts will fuel.
O Lebanon, my wounded grace,
You are more than time, more than place.
You are the soul that will not cease,
A raging storm, a heart at peace.
And though the world may call you lost,
May count your suffering, weigh the cost,
Theyâll never know the love you give,
The way you dieâyet always live.
And still, I hope, with all my might,
That one day soon, youâll shine with light.
That all who left will find their way,
Back to the homes from which they strayed.
That nevermore our hearts will ache,
For lands we love, yet must forsake.
That Lebanon will rise, will mend,
And homesick hearts will heal again.
pixelskylines
2087
amandla
snowghoul
discoholicmusic
turnnoffyourmind
blakekathryn
prguitarman
