Death.

It's all around us. You can see it. You can see Death. It's going on right now, rather you want to see it or not. You see the orphans, these children who are crying, wondering where their parents are. You can here their pleas to God asking why. The tears dry on their face, leaving streaks on their dirty cheeks.

Death has been here.

The war is His favorite. You see the rampage tear away at everyone and everything. People getting killed for what they believe in, but how do we repay them? They get buried in shallow graves, forgot as years pass by. Brothers, fathers, husbands, never allowed to go home again due to Death's storm and greed. Families ask God why.

Death has been here.

It burns down houses, turning them into nothing but rubble and soot. You can smell that He is here. You can almost taste Death as keeping going on this riot that is fueling Him. Someone is weeping in desolation, crying out that He has been here. Ammunition is lighting up the night sky, tracing the path to another family's demise. You can see the fear in a child's eyes and asking God why.

Death has come here.

Children are standing out here, their arms outstretched looking up at the sky. Old men kneel down to the ground, ready to accept their fate. Women, wives and daughter, are beaten and forced. You see a whole generation on the verge of being ended. Each face has the same look: sadness. There is no bravery among the many who are all asking the same thing over and over. Why?

Death has been there.