Jahanam (hell)

In this barren land of chaos and disaster,
pleading eyes of help reach up to me as if I were their savior,
but I am not,
I am only a mere human being.
Their bodies resemble the weeping willow stems
which pendulates with the wind –
unable to control their own movements.
Their clothes sag upon their bodies,
and the bones poke through their skin
like a thin layer of canvas stretched across
a board... an artist ready to paint their story of their life:
a life that is no longer theirs.
A light sparks in their eyes
when they see the men dressed in camouflage
from head to toe,
armed with guns,
they appear to be the sip of water
that one encounters when breaking fast.
But all the interest has been wiped out of their hearts
when those very same guns which were seen as a utopia
are the very same ones which keeps them shackled,
and bound in their miserable state.
Eyes that used to animate with gaiety,
are now replaced with eyes that are lifeless...
it's almost as if they've been burnt out.