Why

I looked up to the sky,

searching for stars with tired eyes,

Hoping for the moon, if I was lucky enough

I know I'm not

But I searched anyway.

Yet there was,

Not one but more.

Moons spilling across the night

stars crowding every corner

The sky was crowded

unfinished dreams,

unspoken stories,

unheard laughter.

The sky was full.

Then I looked down,

to the land–

my homeland.

And all I saw was black.

Black that reeks of blood.

Black that screams of death.

Black with no mercy left in it.

I looked up again and wondered:

Is this punishment?

What is our greatest sin?

What crime deserves such endless punishment?

I asked the sky, why?

But silence answered

Only echoes remained

Why?

Why?

Why?

O my homeland,

why?

Then the sky whispered:

“We are alive.

We're alive without pain,

We're alive without hunger.

We are alive.

And you must be too.”

But homeland,

Isn't it enough?

Aren’t the graves too many?

Aren’t the names too heavy?

Aren’t the children already carved into the walls of ruins?

O homeland,

we love you.

But what kind of homeland

feeds its children to the grave?

What kind of homeland

drowns its sons and daughters

in an ocean of loss?

O homeland,

the sky is already full.

Let them rest here.

Let them shine here.

Let them be.

Upon your land.