Wounded With Hatred

Frank Solanki

Thousands of men wounded with hatred
Hundreds of children dying in pain
Brothers against brothers
What more do I have to see?

The moon gets darker by the minute
Rivers are filled with bloods of us
Dead birds, barren trees
What more do I have to see?

Love is a myth. Death is the truth
Red skies drop bombs of hell
Hope’s lost to the winds
What more do I have to see?

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