He was but a mere boy,
chasing dreams in fleeting fire.
Gone were the games—no child’s toy,
Now war’s weight grew ever dire.
Death stalked his every ploy,
A shadow cast in mirk and mire.
He never knew this march to war
Would still the soul he once swore.
Death and chaos carved their path,
A young man born from pain,
His youth was loosed like arrows’ wrath,
His heart scorched by war’s refrain.
Years of lies fill media’s scrolls,
Like scraps a beggar’s hands attain.
Can’t you see the shattered view?
This war has stripped what once he knew.
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