I get the smell of gun powder in my house,
the miasma smothering me.
Blasting bombs and terrified screams,
I hear them all.
Stifled by guns, held at close proximity.
There is a war in my closet and I cannot pretend to be blind.
For battles begin in the mind.
And mortal souls merely bear the consequences of lost ideologies.
Too strong, too bold for the weak and the feeble.
Yet we are blinded and defeated by the shine of their sigil.
How long more do we keep mum and look on with faux ignorance?
Has the violence and terror debauched our very conscience?
Picture credits: @iotaimagery