Oh, the sensitivity!
Bombs, guns, war... Even the mention of the likes has the world around her at unease.
How long has it been since youths began using these terms
Without a hint of caution?
Why should it all be taken so seriously now?

She awakens each morning with the same melancholy.
Nothing changes, nothing's new,
She accepts life as it is.
There's a chance we'll be hit tomorrow.
There is a war going on, after all.
But, though she arises in a world left unharmed,
She is in tension still.

She moves on swiftly through another gloomy day.
The sky takes many colours,
The air holds many voices.
Yet, still, she is oblivious.
Her silence: impenetrable.
No joke could arouse laughter.
No insult could provoke anger.
To remain silent is her answer.

But why? No one asks.
Her beauty alone could break hearts.
Her words could mend souls.
Her touch could heal wounds.
Her voice could silence the world.

But no one has asked.
No one has wondered.
Everyone believes she is independent,
She's happy in her isolation,
She is content to continue the life she is living.

But inside she is far from happy.
Her isolation, she believes, is best for everyone.
She depends on everyone to help her,
But knows they cannot help.
No one would understand.
For she has all the answers,
Her words would mend souls.
Her voice would silence the world.

Though the sky takes many colours,
And the air holds many voices,
All she sees are the monsters in her mind.
And all she hears are their murmurs crawling into her reality.
She can see who the real terrorists are.

The truth is; no soldiers, no artillery and no attack can compare
To the threat the monsters bring her.
This is real war.

And that's why she doesn't speak.
She knows no one would understand,
For this she is glad.
But.. No one would want to hear what she has to say.
No one would like her words.
Her voice would silence the world.