fauxcroft

Walk through rubble, burnt out homes

Are there dead below the rubble? It’s unknown

I can smell the death and residue of the bombs

And the sickly stench of rotting flesh of kids and mum’s

Once neighbourhoods of people sharing so much fun

Are now tombs for cold dead bodies laying under ground

What sickness or madness finds this acceptable

Is empathy, peace and love truly irretrievable

Has mankind’s humanity sunk way below

I hear whispers of those lost here echoing in my ears

And all around me I can feel the absolute sense of fear

And now all I see is a population with dry eyes crying  dry tears.

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