An Ode To Chris Hondros

The truth has always lay behind the lens, Despite how the words of a conflict may twist and bend. Bullets fly and shells shatter the earth and youth, Tear at flesh and souls and try for the truth. To tell a story, as writ by action, And recorded in frames, under fire, an austere reaction. Before opinion, before judgement, explanation or denial. And lest the world take notice if only for a while. Enough to make, some good of ill, Whether be one child, or a city you can fill. An eye for slices of humanity in the chaos of war, The silent photographs, like a lion’s roar. The compassionate soul, will not in mortal life wake, And to die, on a stage of violence, will make. The world see there are wrongs left to right, And following the horrors of a day, can be a peaceful night. And when the smoke clears, the truth has always lay behind the lens, It did then and it will again...and again...and again...