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Mystic wars
Civilians gasping for breath,
Is it the inevitability of death?
Emigrated to these lands,
Dreamt of surviving life spit and span.
These religious fascists,
Showing the way of the fist.
Young children are gathered,
Just to be slaughtered.
Mystic wars, holy wars,
Violence at its peak.
Maggots piercing through the lacerated corpses,
And souls battling through the Thorps.
The world is bleeding within,
While everyone is diving into their sins.
The ruptured wounds that have been caused,
In fame and glory, so many are lost.
Fanatics brainwashing the youth,
Not even letting them know the truth.
The decapitated soldiers,
Some suiciding during the war banging their heads on rigid boulders.
The gore is enough to make them nauseous,
But still, the war has to continue
Even if the conditions are voracious.
Biological weapons persist like a loophole.
A stream of blood is flowing through the knolls.
Some will be slaughtered and some will be martyred,
And the ordinary people still will continue to be battered and battered.
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