Concealed. But never conquered.

She watched as the war raged on
And saw her city burn
She saw young boys and girls searching for each other in the rubble
Mother cradling dead babies, crying as for second chances they yearn

Her salty tears made lines on her dusty face
She hastily wiped them away
She had to be strong; strong for her children
If they wanted to live another day

The city had been destroyed, just like her dreams
She thought, as forward she walked
The broken streets, the burning houses
What horrors they would tell if they talked

A crescendo of cries and pleas of mercy
Didn’t leave if she tried to cover her ears
But this was normal. This is the quality
Of life she had survived through for years

She cradled her newborn close to her
And tightly held her older child’s hand
Covered their mouths, trying to block out the fumes
And pungent stench of what was once a beautiful land

She tripped on corpses and slipped in blood
Her eyes, all the while levelled to the scarlet sky
Her goal was clear, her mind was fixed
To this country overrun by war, she was bidding goodbye

That was when all hell broke loose
The guards at the border stopped her, she wasn’t to be out today
They sentenced her to death, for she had no male companion
Her dear children were taken away

They sent her to the gallows. And on the stand
Though the beating had taken a toll and her vision was blurred
Her last words to the onlooking crowd became synonymous with strength
‘Our power has been concealed, but never conquered!’

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