war by cyclopseven

bloody war oozing compassion out
fighting a fight for justice invisible
borderless humanity a cry far from reality
bordered and cramped the ‘thoughts’ exist.
a man struggles a journey he crawls
though he appears walking
his wooden limbs carries him moving.

the war squeezed the heart out
no fear no love
nothing to care but liberation
rest but pickles.
in the absence of fear
and unknown bravery surge
fighting bullets in return of blood
a group marching in bloody violence.
whom to blame and whom to cry shame
nobody knows where and how it begins
but all are here for tremendous battle play
terrorism?
defense?
peace?

reasons are obscured
but the reality is painful
as blood flows a river made
in red the world painted great.