Son of Syria.

Oh, children of Syria!
Where art thou?
Here calls the vermilion playgrounds,
The black skies full of new wounds.
They all misses you, your sword and crown,
These empty swings with blood flowing down.

Oh, children of Syria!
Where art thou?
The green grasses longs for tenderness of your feet,
Lands awaiting for your smiles like breeze in heat.
The butterflies, flowers, stars and nights,
The sky, waiting for your lovely kites.

Oh, the children of Syria!
The dawn of human race!
Where art thou?
Come back love, come back!

In the bloody desert, a little corpse lies,
Telling it’s story of agony, pain and cries.
“I’m the son of Syria,
The bullets were fired at my childhood,
The bombs were thrown at my innocence,
The swords killed my pure soul,
The chemicals destroyed my dreams,
I’m the son of Syria!”

Awaken, mankind awaken!
Before one more childhood is taken,
Before one more house is scattered,
Before one more dream is shattered.

Oh, the children of Syria!

i_ujala.

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