Tiny giggles filled gaps
between bullets ratcheting,
Sirens screeching.
Voices faiding.
In the middle of the battlefield.
Skipping joyfully.
With shiny smile.
A Child.
Bodies in ruins.
Soldiers in holes
Left behind
On the battlefield.
Skipping, laughing,
With spark in eyes.
One would think:
Is this hope?
From first to second
To the other one.
Child wrpas his hand around their fingers:
Collecting them.
Those fallen.
Forgotten.
Burried.
In bloody battlegrounds.
