faded to faith

one night out in Tel Aviv
I met this Argentinian Jew,
face etched with a strange mix
of hope and despair.

we hit the bars,
traded laughs and drinks,
he introduced me to his circle,
a band of wanderers, misfits,
each with their own secret wounds.

after the third bar,
he leaned in,
eyes searching mine,
and spilled his heart —
the Palestinians, he said,
the endless strife,
it gnawed at his soul.

but there was more,
a hidden agony —
he’d fallen for a Muslim woman,
their love a clandestine fire,
burning bright in the shadows of their faiths,
hearts locked in fear.

he spoke of secret meetings,
stolen moments,
the constant dread
of being discovered,
families ready to unleash hell
for a love deemed forbidden.

his friends, they laughed,
found humor in his pain,
but I couldn’t shake
a nagging thought —
what kind of faith
turns love into a battlefield?

I couldn’t understand,
maybe because I’m naive,
But how good can religions be,
if they blast love and teach to hate
what we should hold sacred?

oh, I don’t know,
we’re all lost in this mess,
seeking meaning
in a world
that often
makes none.