The ground is pale with winters frost. Grass is sharp and frozen against my toes as I walk, cold and lost. My heart pounds loudly, filling the quiet space around me. I look up at the sky as it begins to cry, realizing I'm not the only one sick, not the only one sad. The earth shudders a few miles away, and tiny bang-bangs are heard just barely.

A war is going on, and my home has been destroyed.

I circle my arms around the tiny child in my arms, trying to keep away the coldness and the pain that will decay us further. As it has done to you, as it has done to the earth. The grass begins to turn red and blood has never lingered in the air for so long.

It has stained me, as it will stain all.

I look into the sleeping face of the child in my arms and pray she will never have to experience such torment and destruction. The sky cries for our sorrows, our misfortunes. I tuck her in closer, smelling her singed hair.

Please let this child be the hope we all crave.

Let her flourish and shine, and allow this world to be reborn into something better.