He sat near the plains of Burma
To himself the thoughts springs and the pictures reveal
The ravages of war, the salvages
Never had he seen what he had seen
A matte of madness and fury
The insatiable thirsting for blood
Evil indeed is the human race.

He turns to the lady next to him
And says
"I have lived in such comfort as to forget
The existence of wars
The wicked acts of war;
Genocide, massacres, rape, murder and the likes
I have been away
Locked away in luxury and indifference
Now I regret my very existence".

I am only 25 and unmarried
The only son of my father
Will I live to see to see my progeny?
I ask because I'm not sure I'll go back home
My friends are dead, my enemies too
That is the fate of war
Somebody has to give up his live for the providence of a few
All ingrates.

What kind is mankind
To rid what he cannot create
To take what he cannot give
This itself is condemnable."

War knows nobody, Boy or man
Like a hurricane it sweeps the land
Like flood it wipes away dreams of a young lad
Renders him homeless
Turns him an orphan
Now he wonders what the world is
He wanders up and downhill
Depressed, retrogressed
And impressed with so great a burden
To learn to survive in the plains alone
Out in the plains is hunger and strife
The worst and unimaginable
Sometimes you have to hide and hibernate for days
For fear of being killed, or taken captive
Fear is real, death is sure
Life is temporal, precious and uncertain
But Only for the living
The dead is ignorant of what death can cause
The living is curious where the dead goes
It is not for me to say
But I have heard tales, ridiculous ones too
And I know the dead did not wish to die
Not today, certainly not this way
War is cruel, senseless and undesirable
Stop the war and heal the world.