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Middle East Crisis: Leaders’ Bloody Hands Fuel Endless Horror

All have blood on their hands, sticky and red;
Netanyahu booms ahead,
Bombs hit Gaza, even the ones already gone –
Kids played there; now, we mourn.

Iran's pushing back hard for their own good.
Drones slice through the air, ripping the sky’s hood.
Is this real survival stuff, or just a fake show?
Missiles clash and deaths loudly crow.

Trump's leaning in more, but his people say nay.
Opposition builds up, like waves in a trapped bay.
US ships watch the Strait all night, all day,
Choking the oil, causing global disarray.

Toy soldiers scattered, broken in the dirt,
Twisted and real, just hearts full of hurt
Deaths everywhere, but none add up.
Hospitals, schools, towns and nations flare up

The world's crying as fires spread wild.
Smoke hides the sun; blue skies are trapped inside.
Deserts grow bigger; thirst no one can measure.
Hope's barely there as war rips through treasures rare.

The UN just stands there, fists tight but useless.
Papers pile up, lost in the abyss;
Vetoes cut deep, locking talks in place,
To eclipse Epstein's sex and disgrace.

Blame the leaders; their words transform –
Iran’s warlords, Netanyahu's storm,
Trump's wild moves. All pour into the massacre.
Conspiring secretly, the avatars of Lucifer.

Stand up, everyone around the globe,
In unity's embrace, let love be the robe.
And link hands in the dark; let hope be our spark,
UN, be brave; light it up and ignite the arc.

In the quiet places, where whispers linger,
United, we cast our hopes and shatter the chains.
Each stride is a battle, a chance to ignite
Setting the dark aflame, let’s banish the night.

Picture design by Anumita Roy

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