Kabul

Red is pressed onto red, aged paint peeling away. The flames of humanity-fading. Sapphire mellows into verdance, Purity is dissolved in darkness. We are the Dying Youth. This earth is not our own, This air not our own, Our own air poisoned by gunpowder, This life will never be ours. Life is golden, rich, lush, We stand on the east, Miles from life. We are the Dying Youth. Our hands do not hold. Instead, Shake in fear. Our eyes have seen death. We are the Dying Youth. Our mouths do not sing, Instead, Cry out for help. We cannot be heard. We are the Dying Youth. Our ears are not filled with song, Instead, the sound of broken earth, Screams, Loss We are the Dying Youth. Our eyes do not see, Instead glitter under the moon as tears all at our feet. We have seen our fate, covered in blood and sorrow. We are the Dying Youth. Our hearts do not beat, Instead they ache. We are the Dying Youth. Here, the broken children do not play, Instead, mourn the death of their friends. Our purity has been stolen by greed, blood, lies. Life dare not open her eyes. Here, no one dares to speak the truth, This is the Afghan youth.