Syrians living in the abyss of bitterness prayed on Mother's Day the redemption of their motherland.

"Mama Syria, we are suffering and hurting each other... please pray for us to live back in peace," 29-year-old Syrian woman Kinda Maqdissi said Thursday on her Facebook page.

As the country's two-year-old turmoil drags on, Syrians suffering growing hardship marked Mother's Day online by speaking out their complicated emotions.

"Forgive us mama, we don't deserve to be your sons; we have hurt you and let you down," one Syrian said, while another cursed "May the entire world diminish after you mother Syria."

"We all are your sons," someone posted, comforting those Syrian mothers whose beloved sons have been swallowed up by the devil of war.

The prolonged crisis, erupted in March 2011, keeps gaining momentum with new complications and unexpected turns along the way, showering Syria with horrible casualties, social disintegration and deterioration.

Many young Syrians have opted to leave the war-torn country so as to alienate themselves from the misery that has spared no one in two years.

Mayyada, 59, celebrated Thursday Mother's Day with her children.

Her daughter, a 29-year-old physician, will leave for Egypt by the end of March, while one of her sons, a 26-year-old accountant, has managed to obtain a Schengen visa and will leave in April for Spain.

"I can't take the risk of keeping them here any longer," the mother said sadly. Every time they go somewhere, Mayyada would stay alert and call them every 15 minutes, as abduction and terrorist bombing have both become common as instability protracts.

The UN refugee agency said in a report Thursday that the devastating conflict has led to a sharp rise in asylum requests from Syria, with up to 24,800 applications submitted by Syrians in 2012, 191 percent up from the previous year.

Mayyada hopes that her children will be provided with good jobs, at least a sense of security, everywhere in the world. However, leaving their motherland is never easy for Syrians.

"The moment the plane took off, I felt as if my soul was being pulled out of my chest," recalled 26-year-old Abdul-Rahman Rzzi, whose brother had left before him for Belarus.

After staying in Cairo for several months, Rzzi went to Berlin, leaving his parents behind in hopes of reunion one day.