Pasted on the wall,
Glistening flat faced,
All warmed up
I unfold the images
Of destruction,
Blur out rackets of mortar,
Flip blue sky into black.
In the comfort
Of their homes,
They lament away,
At a touch of a button
I am silenced.
Havoc out of sight;
Life goes on.

The Man on a Mission
Scours the East of the continent.
He sees the ravages on humanity
In its full glare,
Mangled bodies,
Riddled with bullets,
Roving children,
Yelling for mercy.
He clams up,
The well of tears run dry.
Unimaginable images of horror
Reel around in his head,
Sounds of terror,
Reverberate in his ears.

The Man on a Mission
Goes to work
Not knowing what
each day will bring,
yet he carries on
in the face of adversity.
The sounds have become a part of him.
I pray some day
All this will come to an end,
So The Man on a Mission
Can be sound asleep.