Beneath Empty Skies: The Cry of Hunger That Echoes in Every Heart

Beneath the sun’s unforgiving rays,

Where land turns barren, dust obeys,

A silent cry, a nameless dread,

Hunger lingers, as children plead for bread.

The earth, once fertile, now cracked and dry,

Fields that once bloomed, now whisper, “Why?”

The hands that toiled, now tremble weak,

As mothers hush the tears that streak.

A hollow growl within the chest,

Echoes louder than any protest,

Beneath the stars that shine so cold,

The warmth of hope is far too bold.

The seeds of hope, so hard to sow,

In lands where famine’s winds do blow,

Fruits of plenty, once dreamed in vain,

Now linger only in hunger's pain.

Fingers grip the earth in despair,

For a grain of rice, a breath of air,

While hunger gnaws at the fragile bone,

And leaves the world to mourn, alone.

A feast for some, a dream for most,

The wealth of nations leaves many a ghost,

In palaces high and streets so low,

The pangs of hunger endlessly grow.

And yet beneath this sky, so vast,

The echoes of the past hold fast,

Wars fought and lost, and dreams denied,

While hunger's shadow spreads far and wide.

Will we turn our gaze and finally see,

The starving souls, the human plea?

Or let the silence stretch so wide,

That hunger’s voice becomes our guide.

So rise, and share the bread you hold,

For no heart should grow so cold,

That hunger's song is left unheard,

Beneath the sky, let love be stirred.

For in each life, in every hand,

The power lies to heal the land.

A loaf, a meal, a kindness shown,

Can lift the hearts so overthrown.

So let us act, not stand aside,

And in our hearts, let love abide.

Beneath empty skies, let no one starve,

Together, we can heal, rebuild, and carve.