What damning price war demands?
A burned-face child scars mind’s eye,
And we doubt our humanity.
Exploded lives erode our faith.
Mothers scream in the night
Their agony of tormented loss.
Whispers haunt our dreams.
Silken and hoary breaths beseech
Our wayward path to doom.
Four horsemen storm the road
To hope, dashed upon the rocks
Of an endless sea of blood.
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