You can smell the fear,

it moves fast like the wind,

it doesn't leave us with time,

whispers heard from those who hide,

tense muscles frozen inside.

Silent cries, children small,

the army's coming,

to this war so long

that awaits them all.

The oppressors force them to commit

the worst deeds you can admit.

People hide in tiny places,

but nothing worse than empty spaces.