Shadows of Survival

Hunger, Thirst, and Hopes at the Threshold of Refuge

Displaced children collect food from volunteers. Image from Bloomberg

Empty-handed, they carry plates,
Eyes fixed on the stubborn time,
Waiting,
For a morsel of bread,
For some water,
At the doorstep of a new refuge.
Since before dawn,
Hungry,
And after dusk,
Thirsty,
They await the wheat of relief,
At the entrance to a sorrowful camp.
They’ve left behind childhood photos,
And birthday celebrations,
Hoping they comfort their eternal silence,
Under the homes turned to ash.

Empty-handed, they carry plates,
Eyes stalking the relentless time,
Waiting,
For a morsel of bread,
For some water,
Outside bare tents.
They fled the warmth of the city,
When civilization’s hell struck unexpectedly,
Silencing every voice above the gunshots and the screams of the dying. They wandered through unclear paths,
Through closed borders,
In a whirlwind leading nowhere but to more gunshots and screams.