Pages rustling in the wind
Splattered with blood
And blackened smoke,
Deposited in the blast
That killed its journalist
Owner as he wrote
The words of war.
Words which echo
Through our hearts
And blow our minds,
With a desperate pain
Of loss, remorse and
Grief at the killings
In the war torn streets.
Little children scurry
With bread tucked under
Their scrawny arms,
Hurrying home to a
Shell shocked Mother
Unable to breast feed
Her crying, starving baby.
The bombs reign down,
The buildings blow up,
The gunfire continues,
And we do nothing
We remain silent
Whilst the world
Looks on in horror.
Hate and rage,
Scream across the TV,
Jump out of the radio,
Boldly marching headlines
Depicting the words of war,
Stand to attention
Silently witnessing,
The words of war
Becoming part of
The war of words.