The Brotherhood of Man

The brotherhood of man When he came into the hall, his brother came down the stairs, he had forgotten to buy milk Outside, guns blasted his brother fragmented to a hail of noise and blood on splattered asphalt. The soldiers, in a killing mood, shot into the hall he ran up to the third-floor flat where his sons sat told them to flee to the roof of opposite buildings They refused and had slingshots to defend themselves he didn’t try to persuade the boys, undid a window and jumped on the next roof as bullets of ill will hissed past like angry wasps on an August afternoon. The building he escaped to had once been a clinic for those who hated their faces and wanted a change This war had descended into brutal self-delusion where the news shouted slogans of hatred, beating People to mass hysteria, blindly killing anyone that resembled the foe, not seeing the enemy was them committing fratricide. When the blood lust of ammo suppliers was sated a nervous calm until a flash of light lit up the sky there was no one left to tell why the war had started.