Scattered, twisted

I see the bodies,

twisted,

scattered,

dead and distant
from the dreadful flight
that passed in seconds
to give its final goodnight,

dead and bloodied,
buildings dropped,
eyes staring,
children running,
in the dust of the fight.

Children playing,
praying beside
dead bodies,

scattered,

twisted,

starving,

waiting,

for the tender touch,
that will never come,

back to home gone,

rubble,
pieces of lives,
and a baby cries,
in the distance

as I see the bodies,
the bodies,
the children,
generations,

scarred and gone.

 

25/11/2016

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