Scattered bodies,
a single error,
one last breath,
machine gun terror,
reign of death.

Barren friendships,
endless war clips,
dreadful horror, 
needless sorrow.
Sons with guns are
rolling dice,
to sacrifice
their universe.

Little time has passed since I wrote about peace. And here we are, shaken by war – it has been a rude awakening. The mind is trapped in a not so distant country while the body remains comfortably at home. The war is close now and, as it seems, this makes all the difference. Back then I asked myself: Would I fight? What for? The questions keep lingering, flare up, and sink down again. I don’t want to fight. I cannot fight. But then again, the mind is made for adaptation. Many men over there were probably thinking the same a few weeks ago. And in presence of such blatant failure of the human race we still wonder what the great filter might be.

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