🕊️🔥 A Storm Wrapped in Silence
by M. Murali Mohan, Advocate
A storm wrapped in silence,
A flame of truth for the world to feel.
From broken homes and bloodstained stone,
A child still cries, unheard, alone.
The echoes rise through Gaza’s night —
A prayer persists beneath the fight.
Rubble does not lie or sleep.
It groans. It burns. Its wounds run deep.
And still they speak of gain and ground,
While bodies smolder underground.
No sacred past. No ancient claim
Can justify this endless flame.
These aren't wars of right or creed —
Just shadows feeding endless need.
Missiles flare across the skies,
Truth drowns beneath the leaders’ lies.
Tehran trembles. Tel Aviv shakes —
But what remains when all else breaks?
No glory born in burning fire,
Just ruin crowned in dead empire.
What prophet dreamt this kind of rage?
What god would sanctify this cage?
No scroll. No oath. No sacred land
Can cleanse the blood from trembling hands.
No verse. No vow. No solemn plea
Can wash away this tragedy.
Can you hear the dirt beneath the graves,
Where nothing grows, and no one saves?
Can you walk where the mothers fell
And still declare this war is hell?
The silence screams beneath your feet —
A flood of truth, no more discreet.
No justice. No faith. No reason's thread.
Just names, and flames, and countless dead.
A storm wrapped in silence,
A flame of truth for the world to feel.
Peace must rise like a rebel flame,
Not from silence, not from shame.
Let your bloodied borders break like brittle pride,
Let your vain towers fall from hollow inside.
