Elegy for Majd

In the remnants of joy, where laughter once soared,
Majd, young and pure, dreams now ignored.
A soccer field lost to the ravages of war,
Nazareth's promise, a dream seen no more.

"Baba, where can we go?" he'd ask,
As airstrikes roared, fear's daunting task.
To St. Porphyrius Church, refuge they found,
Prayers and hymns, solace profound.

Yet tragedy struck on that somber day,
Shrapnel's cruel intrusion stole joy away.
Majd, Julie, Soheil, souls intertwined,
Innocence shattered, love undefined.

Beneath the monastery, sorrow took hold,
A mother's embrace, a story untold.
Israel's claim resonated in the dust,
A cost too high, lives turned to rust.

Burned faces and hands that once held hope,
In the debris, a family's shattered scope.
"My children just wanted peace," the father cried,
In grief's embrace, dreams subside.

For Majd, the soccer field is now a memory,
A trip to Nazareth, lost in tragedy.
In St. Porphyrius' walls, their voices remain,
A poignant elegy for lives in pain.