They float upon the river
Broken, bruised, half buried under each other
Slaughtered men… the victims of battle
And nearby lies a village, meek and small
Whose huts contain the empty bodies of those the warriors swore to sustain
Burnt cinders of charred bodies line the flaming houses
Wounded in death, the bodies lie in the streets
Skin ripped open from the bullets
Children lie dead in the old square
All we can do now in their honour
Is to bury the empty bodies
And tell their untold stories
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