Zones of Zealotry

In a state controlled by a fanatical militia Fuelled by a desire for revenge, They sit cowering in a crumpled cellar,huddled close, Wide-eyed kids whimpering Held tight by sad-eyed women and grim-faced Men,muttering their imprecations While listening to the crump, Crump of the incessant shells raining down on their village, Their hearts racked with hatred Driven by fear. In a state born out of terrorism Hemmed in by hostility, They sit crowded in their bunkers Lit by flickering bulbs Listening for the faint whine of Katyusha rockets And singing shakily to keep their spirits up, Silence falling when a shell bursts As they fear the worst, Their hearts racked with hatred Driven by fear.