Soldiers tramp stiffly through the sandy desert,

awaiting the command to slaughter.

Women run, and children cry,

while men step forward as defenders.

They would rather die than surrender.

The commander orders their bloodbath,

ensuring many will not survive Uncle Sam’s wrath.

Crimson sand stirs in a hellish wind,

surrounding the defenders in a thin shroud of protection.

The sorrowful wails rise above the roaring explosions,

the men in red, white and blue take little notice.

His practiced fingers press down on the trigger,

Ready!

Aim!

Fire!

He doesn’t miss her.

The child’s body slides unwillingly to the feet of her brother.

Baby is dragged into the blood-stained arms of the wailing mother.

Mama sits crying,

as sister lays dying,

the brother standing calmly behind them.

He rests a gentle hand on mama’s shoulder,

his eyes alight with violent hatred for the soldier.

I will get revenge! he fearlessly declares,

but mama protests numbly, through her grief-struck haze.

No, she moans weakly from behind an ominous gaze.

Ammunition streams passed her tear-stained face,

as the woman takes the boy’s hands in hers.

She pulls him down and embraces the brother.

Peace, the woman cries, peace will save us all.

The commander calls an end to the malevolent assault.

The soldier takes one last shot, his aim perfect.

The woman clutches her deceased child to her heart,

and hovers protectively above the impressionable tot.

Peace! she wails with her final breath.

The last echo of death

settles over the blood-tainted sand.

The murky fog lifts,

revealing the numerous bodies that litter the pale land.

The boy laying beneath his selfless mother,

silently waits for the attack to be over.

The sun sets above the soundless desert,

casting a regretful hue across the battle field.

One survivor crawls out of the destruction,

embarking on his own personal mission,

to find the Peace that his mother spoke of.