by Karlo Krstulovic
In these current times, there are various war crimes.
The cries of children were silenced by a multitude of bombs, or by flames,
in these current times, there are things of remembrance built as shrines.
So the silenced can never be forgotten so that we might know their names
even in the afterlife, their names echo and the unknown sing a song.
A final farewell to welcome the others that come
and join their warm embrace in the long, long
darkness that stretches outward in all directions, but for the same outcome.
An end to things too shortlived lives that never thrived,
a beginning of eternity where there is nought more than the dark.
If only the dead could be brought forth again and become revived,
so that their long dark could come to a close, but death is a cruel monarch.
Though the true monarch of death is man itself, who perpetrates these war crimes.
As with many kings, the only thing left to do is take the crown and break it apart a million times.
Karlo Krstulovic is a student at LaGuardia majoring in Creative Writing. They play Dungeons and Dragons in their spare time, they also write prose, non-fiction and have written a few screenplays during their residency at LaGuardia.
