A sight of weepy hollows, the sorry answers for eyes , peer across the vast open space , now replete with carcasses of human waste land.
A man walks by, without flinching at the grotesque sight of the remains of what we call slaughter .
Dazed by the brownish red all around, the kids never stop their inquisitive glances over the torsoless heads and admire the handiwork of men who drained the vitality of throbbing veins and bulging muscles and reduced them into rubble of organs,limbs and a pool of blood
I stand in the midst of everything taking in the sight , with the realization of life, death and its various ways seeping through my being.
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