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Portrait Of War
I see the beauty in the battlescars
For every cut, wound, and bruise
Is just one step closer to a period of peace
I find slight heart in slowly healing wounds
The blood which spills from them
The red rich coloring the dull, brown earth
Man-made machinery will give
But it will always take
The hot metal peircing the flesh of fellow beings
The shredding of life, layer by layer
Falling to the cold hard graveyard
Slowly drifting closer to a scarlet end
With man's hands one can paint the sky red
With every stroke, the clouds shadow over
Hiding the beautiful picture
The picture which was made by man
Their smokey explosions
And ruthless gunpowder
The smoke emitting from the ends of the shot
Burns the eyes of man
And guilt haunts over for every taken breath
War cries softly turn to death moans
Salty seas streaming from each cheek
Taking a sip of the last cup of breath
Not only the comrads, but also the sky
They mourn for the dust once called man
But rejoice that they have found a better home
Even the sky cries and washes the color
The picture fades and disappears
And then man will have to paint the earth once again