A Child.

A child lay,
covered in blood,
Who not too long ago,
Sat with hope in his heart
And dreams in his eyes.

The very eyes that had now been scarred and stained for life.
The eyes that had seen
More in a day than anyone ought
To see in their entire life.
Eyes that had witnessed
The deaths of friends,
That saw rivers of blood flow.
The eyes that saw
More people breathe their last
Than respirators in ICUs have.
His body lay, covered in blood,
As he feigned his death
To deceive the monsters
That roamed the halls
Of his second home.

His ears heard cries of agony,
The rawest emotion to exist.
Ears that heard hushed last words
Being murmured by a friend
As the deafening din
Of death and guns
Blared in the background.
Those ears heard the cries
For mercy and respite,
The footsteps of the animals
In the very halls he had walked,
Not too long ago, with his brother. The brother who lay dead
In an unknown corner,
Away from him.

A young boy lay,
With shattered hopes, traumatized.
Wishing that he were blind and deaf.
So he wouldn’t be a witness
To barbarians in action.

Dec 17, 2014

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