Misery awaits consuming victims one by one,
heading to their doom or heading home,
they do not know but what they do know,
they will not know untill it happens.
Hatred for a war they do not understand,
hatred for a life they lost,
each day passes does it bring them closer to their doom,
or closer to home.
Amongst the sand and blood spilt,
a tiny piece of freedom might be found,
a tiny gleam of home may linger,
engulfing even the saddest of times.
Yet they are still there, wondering in the sand,
is this hell what i have to call home now?
by jamie watson,USA.