Allow the young to grasp the hands of death,
pull the strings of their brains,
shape them into monsters
and make them endure the worst.

Create tragedy from their touch,
give them guns
and send them to war.
They are hollow,
their heartbreak written in the spilled blood.

You took their hope and exchanged it for hell,
yet still they breathe
and stand tall
as their knees quiver
from the heavy burden of the things they've done.