Hospital in Gaza: A Struggle For Survival

WHERE FLAMES CONSUMED HOPE

Oh, Gaza, how the flames have scarred your sacred earth,
Where once the footsteps of the healing and the desperate met,
Now lies a wasteland of charred bodies and burning souls.
In the courtyards of your hospitals, where hope should have been cradled,
You found only fire, death, and the screams of those who begged for mercy.
What madness has taken root, that the sick and the dying
Should be turned to ash beneath the scorching light of cruelty?

The world watches, but its gaze is blind—
While in Gaza, men, women, and children are burned alive,
Their flesh consumed by fire, their souls torn from their bodies
In a massacre so vile, so unholy, it defies the very essence of humanity.
There was no refuge, no escape,
Only the relentless heat, the smoke, and the choking dust of annihilation.

The hospitals, once havens for the weak and the wounded,
Now stand as monuments to unspeakable suffering.
In their courtyards, the cries of the innocent echoed,
But no healer could reach them, for the fire was too great,
Too furious to be tamed by the hands of mercy.
The smell of burning flesh clung to the air,
A stench that will never leave,
A reminder of the lives erased in an instant.

Mothers clutched their children,
Fathers shielded their loved ones with trembling arms,
But the flames were too strong, too unyielding.
In the blink of an eye, their hopes turned to smoke,
And the earth beneath them became a graveyard of unfulfilled dreams.
The bodies that once walked the earth, alive with possibility,
Now lie in the dirt, reduced to nothing but ash.

Oh Gaza, your pain is unbearable,
But from the ruins of this horror, let your cry rise,
For your children have been burned, but they are not forgotten.
Your martyrs, your fallen, will be remembered
In the hearts of all who refuse to bow to injustice.
Though their bodies have turned to dust,
Their spirits rise like smoke to the heavens—
A testament to the strength of those who refuse to be consumed.

To the world, hear the wails that pierce the silence of indifference.
These were lives, not just statistics—
Lives filled with dreams, with love, with hope for tomorrow.
And now, they are gone, burned in the courtyards
Of hospitals that should have been sanctuaries.
This massacre is a wound that no time can heal,
A scar upon the heart of Gaza,
A scar upon the world that failed to act.

But in the ashes, a fire still burns—
A fire of resistance, of defiance against the flames of oppression.
Gaza will rise, as it has before,
From the blood and the ashes of those who were slain.
Though you have been burned, Gaza,
Your spirit cannot be extinguished.