From the Hunted Hut in a War Island, a Lonely Cry...

Hence when did thy breasts hate to feed me?
Hence then haven’t they heaved to need me?
Oh mother! Why art thou so silent?

Those bombs and those ammos from the machine guns, they bother me no more.
They sound more like a lullaby to me.
Wasn’t it you who reassured me that this is life even before I was born?
Now why do you still lie?

My eyes still won’t open full and I only see darkness wherever I see.
Tears have dried and my voice too fragile to rise above the noise outside me.
Oh mom! Why can’t you shout for me?

I heard papa’s plea to let you go before they shot that mercilless bullet into his head.
I saw it, I saw it all...
I heard you beg to let me go;
Now where did you go too?
Why have they taken it all even before I can understand in a life time or more what this is all for?

Is it wrong that I was born to thee?!
Tell me mom, tell me now from up above,
won’t a bullet silence me too?

Bottomline: “I dream of giving birth to a child who will ask, "Mother, what was war?" Eve Merriam