Peace. That notion died in the light of the fires that raged on for miles in every direction. Peace was drowned out by the sounds of the gunfire, explosions, and screams of protest and of the injured and dying. Peace was stabbed bloody by knives and bayonets and hung spread-eagled over the walls of the city as a warning. Peace was set alight and set running, burning, down the street. Peace was found wanting. Peace was smothered in its crib or beaten unrecognisable in a back-alley. Peace is a name forgotten - a body left in the ruins. Peace is dead, and we have killed it.
Posted on: Sat, 08 Mar 2014 06:39:00 +0000
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