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I believed my sorrows were deep
Thought my anger was justified
Hallucinated that my acts were ordained
Martyr I would be if slain.
Presumed that the colour of battle is bright
Its gilded gold edges embraced me
None shall I spare, it's my destiny
Redemption, restitution, no reconciliation.
Alas I realized it was just a mirage
Wars are always black, pitch black
There's no glory, no martyr, no honour
Just some names on slabs of stone.
The tears that soak your tomb
She and the little ones were dear, so dear
There are no winners or losers in terror acts
Just some utterly shattered souls-departed.
Competing interests None.
Provenance and peer review Not commissioned; internally peer reviewed.