Frantically tossing, the flood does hurt.

Groaning whispers, parched and dry,

Excruciating pain beneath the sky.

Dusty winds, cruel and rough,

Splintery bones, the world is tough.

Yet through the agony, voices fight,

Surging strength beneath the night.

Fabio

Excruciating whispers pierce the night,
Telling tales of what once burned bright.

The world is now a grotesque scene,
Where beauty’s shadow can’t be seen.

Each breath, a struggle; each step, a scar,
Chasing hope, though it’s gone too far.

In darkness, I stand, lost and torn,
By the relentless grief I’ve born.

Yet through the wreckage, though all seems grim,
A flicker of light dares to swim.

Lucrezia A.

Torn from the sky, where light had once shone.  

Drenched in the sorrow of skies turned cruel,  

The wind, like a whisper, broke every rule.  

Devastating cries echoed in the air,  

Groaning beneath the weight of despair.  

The earth, now a battlefield of noise,  

Where shattered hopes no longer reborn.  

Dusty remnants of dreams that once gleamed,  

Carried by the winds, as if they had dreamed. 

A world undone, torn and scattered wide,  

In the wake of a storm that none could outride.

Francesco M.

Crooking under a sky so gray,
Splintery bone and blood-streaked clay.

Excruciating flesh, the price we pay,
For the gods of war to lead the way.

The earth will swallow, the sky will mourn,
For era every soul the battlefield has torn.

And in the silence, when it's done,
We count the cost of battles won.

Veronica

Mounds of earth lie everywhere.

Crimson stains the battered ground,

Carnage speaks without a sound.

A grotesque sight, the torn-up land,

Blood and pain go hand in hand.

Whinnying horses, parched with fear,

Croaking cries draw ever near.

Sprawled bodies in a whispered hush,

Ripped by chaos, dreams now crushed.

A spur of dust, a fleeting tan,

Marks the fall of yet another man.

Giulia M.

Splintery remnants of hope, where once life marched.  

Excruciating cries echo through the night,  

As flesh meets bone in a gory fight.  

Dust in the air,  

Frantically tossing shadows, a grotesque affair.  

Foul-smelling dirt clings to the drenched ground,  

While confused whispers of sorrow resound.  

Noisy echoes of groaning fill the void,  

Fresh memories flood, where dreams were destroyed.  

Sprawled in despair, 

In the heart of the chaos, a spirit sustains.

Krishna C.

A soul-smelling air wraps its grip like dark blades.

The noisy winds groan in a groaning, strange song,

As shadows stretch creepy and long.

Perplexing whispers curl through the night,

Where grubby hands clutch, just out of sight.

Wet pavement glistens, grotesque and obscene,

Sprawled under the glow of a flickering screen.

The air is alive with a breath-taking pulse,

A delicious danger, a hollow impulse.

Concise in its chaos, the world stands still,

Under the weight of the groaning, creeping chill.

Gaia P.

Torn remnants from a shattered sky,
Whispers of a distant cry.

The ground is stained with silent dirt,
Where once was hope, now deepened hurt.

Carnage lingers in the air,
A bitter scent, a lingering glare.

The noisy world keeps spinning on,
Oblivious to what is gone.

Yet in the quiet, still and pure,
The soul seeks peace that will endure.

Sofia C.

In a foul-smelling place, where the air is thick with smoke that hung ,

I hear groaning frantically, it goes on so long.

Horses whinnying in panic,

The cries of the wounded men echo in my ears in a drammatic way.

The colors of the carnage are grotesquely bright,

Even in the dark night.

The pain is unbearable,

The thud of cannons is unstoppable.

clothes are soaked with blood,

Hair dirty with mud,

I see only ragged flesh and splintery bone,

And on the ground there is no grass, only jagged stone.

Manila

Noisy winds, their stories telling.

Groaning branches, shadows stir,

Instincts wake, but all’s a blur.

The heart feels strange, the mind unclear,

Stirrings of something, maybe fear.

A quiet hope, a gentle plea,

For calm to come and set us free.

Anna F.

War is coming there will not be anymore light;

screams, shouts, exrcuciating pain,

blood flows on the deads, just like rain,

sadness, terror and fear spread in the soul,

feelings that people cannot control.

The cries of soldiers, young and old,

in stories left untold,

echo through the silence deep,

where memories of death still weep.

In exasperation, the soldiers stand tall,
beneath the weight of the bloodstained call.
Guilty are the hands that took the lives,
Now haunted by the war that never survives.

Luigi

Dusty roads stretch far and wide.
Where echoes of dreams in silence collide.

The noise of struggle fills the air,
A constant hum of despair and care.

A will to rise, a life emerging.
Though shadows loom and the path is rough,
In the quietest hearts, the spirit's enough.

Rachele P.

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