Arms weigh upon an innocent chest Hands no bigger than my vexing fist I vex for wasted innocence Children of War, to violence Tabula rasa exposed Morbid scenes causing mental overloadMonster turned by circumstance Not far long a living seed Raped prematurely of compassion, No feeling- Not for breasts from which weaned less for tears and mercy cries of a strangerCold eyes, such beautiful eyes turned cold Cold heart, what promise once held now frozen Cold soul... Who will drag them in from the cold? Who will LOVE and redeem them?Yet with opened eyes and souls restored The weights upon them - heavier than the gun! Once violent hearts now grasping "Truth" of their wasted innocence and futile youth Puppets for political gain Urchin's past- A tale of pain Scarred forever with unbearable shame Damned be the Elders, the ones to blame.
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Festival King 