We have seen the end of war.
We will never see another mushroom cloud rise into the sky; we will not mourn for thousands of people killed in a lightning-quick flash of death and despair. We will not see the silhouettes of our children frozen on a brick wall.
We will not choke on chemicals, dropped from above by faceless enemies in aeroplanes. We will not scrabble at the ruins of houses wrecked by bombs, desperately seeking buried loved ones.
We will never again run for shelter while air raid sirens cut through the night like banshees. Their wails will no longer haunt our dreams and rouse us, shaking, from our beds, to run to flimsy shelters that may not protect us. We will not huddle there on benches, listening to the sounds of sirens, explosions, the engines of enemy bombers and anti-aircraft fire.
We need no longer fear the heavy footfall of approaching armies. We will not be herded into refugee camps.
We have seen the end of war. Please tend our graves.
© Kari Fay
(Author’s Note: Inspired by the quote “Only the dead have seen the end of war” – Often misattributed to Plato, it was actually George Santayana in Soliloquies in England and Later Soliloquies. I’ll try to write something for Three Word Wednesday tomorrow, since I forgot it was Wednesday today!)