Face turned towards the heavens
The young man screams
When will it end?
Why must we let this go on?
The only answer he receives
Is that of the click,
Of another young mans
rifle,
And the sound of his body
cold and wet
falling to the ground.

Some name him
Barbarian,
Cruel,
Traitor to humankind.
Others name him
Brother,
Husband,
Or father.
Every one of  them will suffer
from his loss.

their Tears turn to
blood on cheeks,
turned to ash,
blown away by the
wind,
into the arms of the carrier,
whose wings are tattered,
whose face is covered
in soot.

She cries out in agony
for those that she carries.
She is burdened
by the grim load,
But her legs will not be crippled,
Her eyes will not be blinded.
She will trudge through
This land of waste,
And suffering
Until we find ourselves again.
When will it end?