War

What have we done to face this? 

How much do we need to suffer more?

How much do we have to pay; 

To afford the peace and happiness, that we lost.

Tortured inside this nation,

‘This Nation’ which once used to be the prosperity's door.

It makes my eyes wet, 

thinking that this battlefield,

once, used to be our home.

Lifeless bodies scattered everywhere,

Echoing screams of the living dead,

from the sky to land and sea to shores;

ringing inside everyone's head,

‘I can't deal with this anymore.’  

 What bad deeds, we have done to face this? 

 How much do we have to suffer more?

 These dense nights of the daily attacks, 

 The silence was found everywhere, 

 makes my tears down to chin, flow,

 But wiping them apart, considering it as a hope,

 The gentle winds touching my body blow.

 Cries of little children,

 The only thing in the melancholy, awake;

 Makes me scared,

 Reminds me of, Granny's stories, 

 which she told me because 

 for my own sake.

 Entire scenery around,

 makes every one of us regret.

 Even before being born, 

 some unborn eyes have seen their death beds.

 Wishing we could run away from this dejection and sorrow,

 But just then;

 One more was shot dead, 

 She fell to the ground.

 Growled in pain as

 For the last time,

 She begged God,

 For the ones who were alive and for the dead folks.

 Before she wanted to fade away,

 Before she wanted to let her soul go,

 All she wants to hear for her nation was~

 ‘you all don't have to suffer anymore.’  

 The firing stopped as the night fell,

 but still, the situation was intense,

 The little son, of the lost precious soul, was crying, 

 as everyone from their hiding places, Offered their condolence.

 The war costs so much, don't they?

 Precious life, beautiful smiles and a lot of sacrifices.

 Realising, fighting for yourself is also:

 itself, death in disguise.

 Is it even worthy to live in this world,

 full of lies?  

 The heartbeats increases, 

 The time passes by, slow.

 Remembering all of my past mistakes, 

 Wishing, everything could be redo-ed.

 But after all this time, 

 The question remains the same way it goes, 

 Doesn't matters if you ask it,

 in the shining sun or the blood-red snow~

 What have we done to receive this? 

 How much do we need to suffer?

 Will there be an end to it?

 Can we rise again to the beautiful crust, 

 From the torturous filthy core?

To make the sun, rise

How much do we need to suffer more?