Six Letters

The wings of the chopper beat steadily, increasing adrenaline As the heroic troops creep stealthily, gunshots are fired and Its as if each step taken is a step closer to danger. What started this war? Religion? Race? Hatred. Those six simple letters. H. A. T. R. E. D. Hatred. Pure hatred. In this cruel world, peace seems impossible . . . Boom! A cannon is fired—people fall dead. Their bodies lift towards the heavens, then dragged down to join Hades. The war cries become more determined. This is survival of the fittest. Due to hatred, the fight continues. Hatred. Six letters. Hatred. Just as there appears to be no hope left in the world, That there is no hope of resolution, No sign of an ending . . . The monster grows weak. A flag has fallen. There is a victory. But there is no true victory—people died for others’ hatred. These troops had clawed at one another like wild cats, A reminder that this is wild territory. War is the wild. The battlefield is the wild. People mourn the losses of the individuals because of Those six simple letters. H. A. T. R. E. D. Hatred. Pure hatred.