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miércoles, 5 de junio de 2019

Epitaph

Bullets fly through the air,
as this beautiful sunrise is painted red,
dozens lay dead on the ground,
and a dozen more will follow.

Taking young lives is the way,
to make the others understand,
that your point of view is right,
because you're the only that's left.

The tanks advance through the deserts,
as bombs fall from the sky,
killing the innocent childs,
who are our hopes for tomorrow.

Yet they see it as right,
they see it as fair,
having someone die for them,
people for whom they just don't care.

Self-commited genocide,
will be the epitaph of mankind,
written in a monolith of dead bodies,
with our own blood.

Millions dead to prove a point,
to say you're right, but for how mlong?
for someone will come and object those beliefs,
and this damned cycle will start again.

- Juan Ignacio Núñez

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