The hopeless eyes

and tear stained horror

of a far-away, fragile gaze,

where once a sweet

and happy child dwelt,

till the innocence of life was erased.


The tears have dried up,

cried out with the pain

of battered beseeching hands,

just sitting, bereft,

in the remains of a life,

in the dust of desolate lands.


Never will a smile

grace the frozen faces

of those who have seen so much grief,

the laughter and joy

lie dead and buried

their moments so tragically brief.


Childhood cut short

and a life now alone,

no longer afraid the bombs,

just vacant resignation

of all that will be;

a lament for a life now long gone.


It breaks my heart

and claws at my soul

to see the haunted gaze of a child,

staring from the rubble

of streets they once played,

where death and destruction run wild.


Will we ever see an end

to the horrors of war;

to the blood and the loss in its wake,

to see once again

sweet confident smiles,

replace frowns and terror and hate?



Written by Darren Scanlon, 7th October 2015.

© 2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.


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