The Strait Of Hormuz. Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The words have changed, I think you see,
Like water flowing, differently.
We talk of war, a bitter sound,
Where only loss can now be found.

No flags wave bright, no cheers ring true,
Just broken hearts, and skies of blue
Turn gray with sorrow, pain, and fear,
A wasted life, a silent tear.

But then, a trick, a subtle twist,
Some squeeze a gain from all that's missed.
A tiny drop, they call it 'won, '
Ignoring all that's overthrown.

They paint the loss a different hue,
A victory false, a twisted view.
But truth remains, a steady light,
In endless war, there is no right.