Ashes Between Borders Poem by Natasa To

The earth trembles with names unspoken,

walls rise where hearts were once open.

Children learn silence before their words,

their lullabies drowned by the clash of swords.



In Israel's night, sirens cry,

Palestine bleeds beneath the sky.

The olive trees whisper of stolen years,

their roots drink deeply from rivers of tears.



And far in Iran, drums echo the same,

mothers light candles, whispering each name.

Dust clings heavy to prayers in the street,

hope feels fragile, yet refuses defeat.



Nations burn flags, but not the pain,

what's lost in war is never regained.

For every border drawn with fire,

there lies a grave, a broken lyre.



Yet somewhere between the smoke and stone,

a child draws peace in the dust alone.

A circle, a sun, two hands that meet,

dreaming of days without marching feet.