R.I.P.

A Mother begs. She wants her son's corpse to just open its eyes one more time, so she can whisper to him the goodbye she never got to say.

The sister is dead and the brother cries, she has gone away.
An infant is orphaned, another is carried to safety and his father is tired yet triumphant.

Shrapnel. Bullets, debris. Attack, defend, attack. Men in uniform, bathed in sweat, blood, tears.

And all we can do is hope for the best, and that is the only weapon we have? The other side has Kalashnikovs and hand-grenades. 

The only thing under siege is the fate of humanity.

1 Comment:

  1. kd said...
    i like.

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