War is such a trivial thing,
It is what kills and then what conquers,
It controls what lives and what explodes,
We've given it too much power,
Fueled it with too much petty rage,
There's definitely no sugar-coating the fact,
That we can also share the shame,
The shame in killing,
The shame in crying,
The shame in this unbreakable pain.
Much too fast it has largely evolved,
What was it first,
A row between dolls?
Well, I guess that we're all puppets now,
Though some of us are upgraded to pawns,
But them, they are the lucky ones,
For we sit and watch and wonder,
Our eyes foggy and blank,
Like misguided ghosts,
While carnage spills around us all,
Like bright red poppies in the snow.