Threads of Despair

In the collage of my life, woven with threads of sorrow, I stand upon the ruins, facing a desolate tomorrow. A woman once adorned with love, now draped in grief’s attire, A casualty of war’s cruel dance, consumed by its dire fire.

My parents, pillars of my world, taken by the hands of war, Their voices silenced, their presence lost, forevermore. Beneath the iron sky, where bombs rained like tears, The home that sheltered laughter crumbled in my fears.

The house, once a haven, now a tomb of shattered dreams, The walls bear witness to the agony, to silent screams. Each brick, a memory, every room a hallowed shrine, Whispers of the past, now drowned in the echoes of the mine.

A husband’s embrace, warmth turned to icy cold, Lost in the symphony of gunfire, stories left untold. Sons, like buds on a fragile branch, torn by the tempest’s gust, Laid to rest in the graveyard of war, their legacy unjust.

In the garden, where once flowers danced in the sun, Petals, like souls, scattered when the war had begun. The breeze, a mourner, carries the scent of the fallen, As the echoes of the battlefield play a haunting ballad.

Through shattered windows, the moon casts a mournful light, On the debris of a life, shattered in the heart of the fight. In the mirror’s reflection, a face hollow and pale, Haunted by the ghosts of the ones love couldn’t unveil.

The horizon, painted with the hues of a blood-stained dawn, Reflects the desolation that in every heart is drawn. The hollow of my eyes, a void where tears have ceased, A soul once alive, now a war-torn masterpiece.

Life, a fragile vessel tossed in the sea of despair, Torn apart by the currents of war, leaving scars to bear. The hollowness of human existence, a truth hard to deny, As the horrors of war cripple the essence of you and I.

Oh, how people become pawns in the chessboard of power, Sacrificed in the name of ideologies, hour by hour. In the theater of war, where generals play their games, Innocent lives entangled, reduced to mere names.

The battlefield within, where emotions bleed and ache, Where humanity crumbles, and hearts begin to break. A symphony of silence in the aftermath of the fight, As the woman stands alone in the desolate night.

Oh, the horrors of war, a relentless, ravenous beast, Feeding on the souls of the fallen, turning joy into feast. In the heart’s desolation, a requiem softly hums, For the woman who lost everything to war’s venomous drums.


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