War Child

Born unto dying screams
under bomb blast explosions as gunfire streams
made an acquaintance with death
before his very first breath
an orphan entering the world of fire and fury, hate and rage
the world his private prison, his own little cage

First cry drowned out by shellfire as the skies spoke
gunpowder the first taste that hit his throat
charcoal and sulphur, his first taste of this hateful power
his first sight a vision of hellfire, as blood ran sour
 

In the war torn night, he takes his first strides
guided by hands, filled with hate he thinks is love, given a sense of pride
the scar on his heart a constant reminder - a lone survivor
as he takes his role as a fighter

Doesn't know what the fight is for, just that this is a world at war
born into the fire downpour, enemies could be behind any door
he takes his arms, and sets the sights on anyone that causes him alarm
still too young to understand the harm
but almost a man in a child's form, had to grow up so fast
because here in the constant missile rain, the enemy has amassed

War Child - Is there any wonder that you aim your sights at any perceived enemy
when it is all you've known
when your childhood is a war zone
Do you think of this as a wonderland, a dreamworld filled with hope
a playground in which to learn. How do you cope?
in the killing fields where dreams are not real
where imaginations and fantasy are left at the roadside, hidden and concealed

War Child I wish I could show you that the world doesn't have to be like this
that there is so much beauty and wonder that you have sadly missed
we can all co-exist
we can thrive, hate and hurt doesn't have to survive
if we put down our arms and look deep inside

Thanks For Reading.
Peace & Love.
Kyle.