The Warfare

Living in a war- wrecked, grass thatched hut, village and community The journey of a war stricken orphan begins tortured, tormented and torn apart oppressed, casted down and abused bruised, beaten and denounced enjoying sour life drinking sweet tears. Sweeter moments of the bitter moments are never something sweet. The burden of carrying an empty belly rumbling like thunder hustles and tussles of life His hope is shattered heart is tattered on his way he staggered. Staggering over buildings reduced to rubble the once booming city, now a doomed city. Hundred years of hard work reduced to rubble with one ‘BOOM.’ The deafening silence confirms the barrel’s footprints bodies lying idle in different shapes and sizes. Flat, horizontal, vertical, half bodies, suspended does conscience still exist? It is one of those things when treasure turns into a curse. Treasure valued more than human life. From the Middle East, they attacked the village With giant octopuses and drones living the orphan solitary. No friend, no food, no heritage But only foes.