Jenin… A scream devoid of tears or lamentation.
Jenin, symbolized by the fetus, embodies a homeland destined to remain unwritten, as the body endures the trials of an implausible gestation.
Does the cascade of tears hold significance, should they find a pathway to flow?
Amidst desolation and bereavement, does weeping find its place?
Does a resounding scream bear fruit?
And does the plea for aid hold any efficacy?
Jenin, ensnared within a lifeless vessel, lingers as the sole vestige of vitality within us…
The very streets run crimson with blood,
In a devastating panorama that ravages the remnants of life’s aspirations,
Determined gazes, undeterred by oppression and injustice emanating from every quarter,
Portray a painful verity, mirroring a harsh reality.
The dream we once envisioned and yearned for, of a cherished homeland, is naught but remnants.
The threads suspending that dream unravelled, as the custodians of the land proved feeble in safeguarding their own progeny.
The illusion of a state shattered, dissipated amidst the dust raised by tanks that leveled the mirage to the ground.
No truth persists except that which resides in the grip of occupation,
And no illusion persists except that projected by the façade of authority.
Jenin, a homeland, forges its heroism from the very lifeblood of its offspring.
Jenin, a homeland, shall emerge from the crucible of unwavering resistance, unyielding to compromise.