SUNDERED
To the part of me that lives in a world beyond my sight
That marvels at the stars and travels to the past,
In the guidance of their light.
To you out there,
Who, in a world blossoming with life, hope and cries of laughter,
Thrive with glory, and in hereafter.
You, who as newborns, smile for reasons unknown to all
You, who over all other earthly beings, stand tall.
You, who bid farewell to arms for the sake of peace,
You, who, upon enduring great chastisement, repent for their sins.
You, who rejoice at the glimpse of their beloveds after a long tiring day,
You, who need no reasons to pray.
You, who laugh and cry at silly things,
You, who spend hours after hours watching the playful banter,
Between light and shadow in the leaves.
You, who do not spend sleepless nights to protect themselves,
From endless pain inflicted by people, their own,
You, who need not spend every moment,
In fear and in consternation.
You, who know not the sound of gunshots and bomb blasts,
The smell of gunpowder, the horrendous sight of bloodbaths.
To you I speak, for in this land war torn,
I stand terribly alone.
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