Vicious bullets rain down
Amid the stifling quiet of night;
Over the din of sleep and hunger,
They create puddles of viscid blood.
Ah, the cloying smell of the lifeless
Taints the immaculate innocence
Of the verdant, shielded camp.
A portending murmur of doom
Permeates the air;
A sudden scream of sadness
Perfuses the once peaceful land;
Again, a handful of lives wasted–
Jotting down more names
On the shifting, fugacious sand.