This sea is mine

We went to the sea to recharge our minds with something different, only to find that the sea itself was weary and sad.

The nightmare we're living in, day, and night, is breathing its last. Our dreams died long ago, and we remain trapped in a fading nightmare that will die with us still inside it.

It's not its death that frightens us, but the exhaustion of staying within it; the weight is no longer in the end, but in the waiting

We want the death that haunts our land to die, and for our land to live; because life here is still worth living,

"This sea is mine, and the salt is from my wound. have grass growing on a stone have a lineage, a ghost, and a grave prepared by the doves I was born between two rocks, And as for me; I am what I am, and I am me, and yet I do not belong to myself, I do not belong to myself, do not belong to myself.."-Mahmood Darwish