Isn't it indeed something to find
An unwanted relic of the past
Died with judgments, these bones did
Of qualities they used to have
Isn't it then shocking
When – to all – these bones are shown?
Monuments of a dead affair
Whose magnitudes are still unknown

We're only used to seeing
Piled bodies and scattered limbs
But when we see this mound of bones
It is quite an occasion
The smell of decaying flesh
Was long relinquished to the flies
What a sight it is to see
Remnants of what was once alive

Maybe we're not comprehensive
But maybe we should ask these bones
No burials or rituals
For these expendable souls
Now we all possessed the notion
That conflict ended with the ceasefire
But the sunken stare of these skulls
Have proven us to be liars