The bombs are dropping.
The guns aren’t stopping.
Tanks roll over corpses,crunching bones,
Men of both sides lay wounded and groan.
The air is filled by a phosphoric smell,
Surely, this is a reincarnation of hell.
Frozen, I lay in the blood of a friend,
Will I die here, will this violence ever end?
I lift up my head and gaze at the carnage,
The ground is littered with glowing cartridges.
The village is alight with a fierce blaze,
Its villagers hanging from branches in a uniform way.
Flies,rats and birds come near,
Taking pieces of flesh hither and thither,
My face is frozen and numb is my skin.
What did I do to deserve this, someone tell me my sin.
They stomp across the farmers fields,
Crushing the years produce under boots of steel.
Sweeping soulless gazes over the land,
Looking for “enemies” whether child,woman or man.
With inhuman efficiency they destroy the buildings that are left,
Poisoning the taps,streams and all the rest.
Methodically they make their way to where I hide.
I close my eyes,trying to hide myself deep inside.
An expedition team roams a foreign land,
An insignia with a globe and the numbers 3015AE stamps their arm bands.
The parchment is preserved under a peat bog and two mutilated men.
The words are scratched in blood,but written elegantly and well.
The corpses faces are caught in a twisted scream,
Whatever happened here has already went and been.
Dear diary,today we found a land from before peace spread wide and far,
The landscape tells stories of many a conflict and bears many a scar.