TOPIC

THE BLEEDING HEART

The sun rises over dust that remembers every fallen name. Rivers run red with stories no history book could fully hold. Children chase hope through streets cracked by hunger and war. Mothers hum lullabies louder than the sound of distant guns. Dreams flicker like weak bulbs in a city starved of light. Yet drums still beat beneath the sorrow, steady and defiant. For even a bleeding heart in Africa refuses to stop loving.