Shells of violence erupt in the air.

Loud noises emanate from here and there.

Wherever you turn, you will hear

Explosions and children screaming in fear.

Lights of orange fly,

Infiltrating the dark and cloudy sky.

They are not ones of hope, 

But rather ones of gloom,

Which form an eerie envelope 

Of smoke and fume. 

People run, grasping their loved ones’ hands,

Ensuring that their inseparability continues to stand.

Families across the ocean pray and hope,

Spiritually connected by an invisible rope.

What else can they do to end the insufferable pain

Of inevitable loss provoked by a man’s desire for gain?

Blood and gore,

The skins of civilians and soldiers broken and torn.

Buildings and homes destroyed,

Transforming what once was a city into an empty void.

However, in the ravaged street is a woman who carries a flag of yellow and blue.

These colors of freedom scintillate a bright and vibrant hue.

People gather around her

As they watch the fabric reflect a light similar to one of a fire.

Unlike the ones shooting in the sky, this light enkindles hopefulness in all,

Which combats those who desire the woman’s homeland to fall.