In lands where olive branches sway,
A tale unfolds, a voice holds sway.
Behold the letters, a poetic dance,
As “V” emerges, a vibrant trance.
Vibrato of whispers, a valley’s song,
Resounds through hills, where dreams belong.
Visions of unity, voices entwine,
A harmony birthed in Palestine.
Oh, the “O,” a circle complete,
Like the sun in the east, rising sweet.
Opaque nights yield to the dawn,
Hope in the heart, a promise drawn.
I is for intifada, a spirited call,
A people’s uprising, breaking the thrall.
In the face of adversity, they stand tall,
In every echo, resilience in install.
Cradling the “C,” a crescent moon,
Palestinian nights, a tranquil tune.
Casting shadows on ancient stones,
History etched in every moan.
“E” unfolds, an echo of exile,
Stories untold, mile after mile.
Elders recount tales of displaced pasts,
Echoes of homes in the howling blasts.
Voices in consonance, a symphony bold,
Of resilience, stories and epics untold.
Oh, the “O,” once more we find,
A symbol of unity, hearts intertwined.
“F” for freedom, a fervent plea,
Carried on winds over land and sea.
Fingers entwined, like branches of olive,
For peace to reign, may hope never dissolve.
“P,” the pinnacle, proud and high,
Palestine, a phoenix, destined to fly.
On the wings of hope, beyond despair,
A people’s anthem, a resilient prayer.
A land with stories, etched in each line,
Where voices echo, intertwined.
The voice of Palestine, a timeless plea,
In letters, in voices, in eternity.
