War

The irony of war- the fight for peace. Practically everything was destroyed. Everything around was in a wreck. Scattered scraps of wood and metal lay in a mess where once stood a house, where there was once a happy family. Bombings and gunshots could be heard from all directions. It was like a living hell. No one could hear anything, for foreign sounds were drowned in the never ending gunshots. Bullet shells were everywhere- as if it had rained bullet shells.

Wailings and crying could roughly be heard amidst all the chaos. Wailings of broken up families, lost children, mothers who are looking for their husbands and children. The cruelty of war, tearing families apart, bringing many things to an end, heartlessly.

Soldiers, however determined to carry on fighting the "war for peace", dejectedly trudged through the wreckage, knowing their life could end in any moment. With a single gunshot. Just like how the lives of many were lost in this endless battle, for peace.

War strikes mercilessly. The struggle for power with the vision of peace. To the people, all they want is to witness for themselves, the light at the end of the tunnel. To live through the war, with their beloved family, back to the happy family they were before, before the war, before the chaos, before all the suffering. War is a phantom, attacking out of the blue, with venom which spreads and never stops.