CONFESSION ZERO

Let us look upon this thing called war remembering its unwavering lessons in the arid land of these hard events. Trampling o`er what is ancient with what is fresh we've lost our original sovereignty which should remain our foundation. That which sprang to birth in righteousness, that which was bestowed upon the dawn should be lifted to better beginnings not go from purity to cold-blooded murder.

They chained their liberated sufferers to steel bars in filth ridden palaces where their screaming fell upon the desecrated ears of empire. We forgot our flowers, forgot our sacrifices. Their streets are filled with the dried bones of brutally murdered children, of wishes for new beginnings, of craving for freedom's ring, of gleaming a sovereign face, of faith in mankind's prayer.

...Let us look upon this thing called war...

Plato PhilosophyCrimes of War


mrp

They were surprised by the fetid sounds of war. They were surprised by the trembling earth. They were surprised by their quaking limbs. And soon everything seemed to be exploding, the air, the ground... Her children’s blood gushed from the earth instead of oil destroying smiles and tears and bone. It’s been exploding ever since, dirty bombs, shredding metal, and from them flesh and bone.

Liberators with gun and grenade, redeemers with rifle and heavy tank, tendering rapid-fire liberty with death, landing on wings slayed brown broods and the blood of them filled the Dijla with a charity of the innocent’s blood.

Rescuers that the nations would resent, stones instead of kisses, bombs over roses, freedom that the free might consume in a country teetering and spent. God to God with them to frowning flesh! Iraqis exploding like atoms to be buried under tables dead where they lived.

Gruesome commander: See them, their dead liberty, gaze their broken homeland, from corpses holding children in…