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Thrown against a wall,
A woman who should be dressed in white,
she slumps to the ground,
Limp and bloody,
and another martry is born.
there have been many,
Many that should be dressed in white,
Tortured, bashed and shot,
They are down,
But they will rise again.
Captured for what they believe in,
One can only wonder,
what was so bad?
That its thirst need be quenched
With a life.
their slogan is 'peace brother'
Killed for that?
Like killing a baby for crying-
so natural-
so real.
They were born under the rising sun,
Or the star,
people before their time,
but now,
they're gone.
Perhaps if we all cried?
Jeremy.