By JH Sayyar
Sonnet: Upon the Forced Fall of Mosques
Beneath the dome where prayers softly rose,
Now drifts the dust of hammers, cruel and loud;
The call to peace in shattered echoes goes,
While silence weeps beneath a falling cloud
The stones remember hands of young and worn,
That built for God with hope’s unyielding fire;
Yet tyrant hands, with greed and malice sworn,
Lay waste to dreams, to faith, to pure desire.
No steel can crush the truth that heaven keeps,
Nor raze the love that binds the heart to Light;
Though marble falls, the faithful spirit weeps,
Yet stands unbowed against the darkest night
let them break the mosques by earthly might,
But never shall they dim the soul’s own rite.
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