It started long ago, a tale of pain,  
Where hunger struck and hope was slain.  
The people cried, their voices weak,  
Yet none would rise, nor dare to speak.  

Bombs fell fast, both day and night,  
Turning homes to dust in flight.  
They pushed them back, they closed them in,  
Yet bodies stacked—such grievous sin.  

They killed the young, the old, the wise,  
As prayers rose to darkened skies.  
We watched the news, our minds enraged,  
A world in flames, a war engaged.  

But this is not where stories end,  
We rise, we fight, we won’t pretend.  
Through front lines fierce, we stand, we go,  
With fire and fury—strike the foe.