War

• Lana Chahine, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2021

Gunshots echo through the empty street
People with nothing to do but retreat
Blood staining the cobbled ground
In a bustling city, not a soul to be found

The earth is ablaze with commotion
Yet people in other places don’t have a notion
Flames are tongues, licking buildings and childhood homes
They cannot be distinguished by even the toughest of foams.

Death wraps its arms around innocent souls
Families hiding as the army patrols
Parents and children alike
Hoping that the soldiers don’t strike

Debris, like hail, falls everywhere
Countless people humming a silent prayer
Willing the war to come to an end
And spare their lives, and their family and friend