In this barren desert I could see
a rifle reflected in the tears of a child.
I could smell tombs in his heart
of ages of bloodshed
running through his family tree.
Amongst grieves and ruins I talked to the boy
who with great pride showed me his deadly toy.
Amongst bonfires fighting for his land
and a losing deck in his hand
He poured upon me girdled sorrows
with a jar of suborn lament.
That was the last memory of an unknown child
before for ever he went out of sight.