The war, the terror.
The trembling hearts when an AK47 fires in close range
the blood spatters, tainting the innocent walls.
The departure of the body from its soul,
as the nine-millimetre bullet permeates through the dull skin
crushing the bones and leaving the body bloody cold.
O’ the cries of war!
The infants who remain orphans
in a crowded, yet lonely world.
The widows who never again dream of happiness.
The parents who will never see smiles on their children’s faces anymore.
The Gory War…
The turning of brother against brother,
the throwing of daggers at each other by friends, when one is not on guard.
The betrayal by silence when one of the defence fighters lies not moving.
The prayers for the war to stop,
which seem to ricochet before they reach their destination.