Huddled together with those who clutch back,
all those innocent, ageless faces cry.
While enemy, gunner soldiers, each with
fire, confident justice is done, kill on.
Raw war, life's rotten rhythm radiates. Resounding distortions surge horror through
blameless bodies, futures, with spasms of
solicitude that explode inside their
souls, like mortar guts a shack; a homes no
longer known, the homeless and the vacant.
Longing for serenity, with all their
boundaries assaulted, the harmless live
with weeping wounds, dirty waters, shadows. Those whose families and friends, the creatures
too, who are blown into scraps, rain down on
the barren land like blood drops of the saints. Life roars, many times out of control. It
regurgitates itself. Repression and
depression and the battles fought, don't halt
to the sounds and thrills of newborn babies.