The child dies unanswered
In the whirl-wind of man
Hysterical and blind

Even still they labor
To their tune of death
As war clouds prowl
Unfazed and starved

We are helplessly interned
Reverent and mute
At the storm of their treads
Bound, for peril’s embrace

We are told
To bury our rage
As slaughter unfolds
In our time
In the days of our young