Again, Again, Anew

These fields were once the green of grass, meadowland nature full. These streams were once the babbling water working their natural way through. Now smoke and pain live on this land, stained by blood bone and sinew. The screams of despair and fear bleed into this soil, death sows its seeds again, again, anew. War commands with no respect for land or beast, for the nature of this world, the lives of soldiers fighting in the fields, for your children, for me or you.