Witnessing the blood baths, the massacre
Of God’s people, children’s bodies everywhere,
And octogenarians expire slowly and quietly in horror.
The undistorted and the vivid images of terror,
The ugly realities of life for millions; what a rancor!
The large plumes of gray phosphorus smoke! There is nowhere
To hide. Showers of shrapnel, unprecedented heavy shellings,
White clouds of death and discriminating lynchings
Of everything that breathes, walks, runs and flies;
This is war, this is sheer terrorism! The God-flies;
Where are they when they are needed?