Martyrs

In those years,

we made more fire than oxygen

more coffins than books.

 

You poured scalding lava

and waxed us off Earth’s skin.

uprooted, charred and scarred –

the price for not taking sides, maybe.

 

Grateful though, we are

for we fell before poison infiltrated our homes.

Beyond their tiny sights,

a red Earth bejeweled herself

in the vengeance of white bones.

 

(Featured Picture Courtesy: Deviantart)

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