By Ben Haideri ’14
The cloud of smoke
blocks the honest path,
Leading its followers
towards one of violence.
As the soldier watches
his country getting destroyed
by bombs,
From the jail in his window
cell.
As the dirty snow covers
the fallen murder weapon.
As the peacemaker loses
his tongue to the will
of the dictator.
As silence and darkness
begin to comfort more than
their counterparts.
As curtains only block out
the rays,
But not the blinding sun
itself.
The child that used his
covers to hide from the
monsters,
Became the prisoner trapped.
Trapped in the worst
jail called a war,
Where the cells are
the only form of comfort.