She limps, footsore, from shattered lands
        where gaping hole and blasted tree
                tell, unbidden, stories of war.
Barely clothed in bloody tatters,
        flimsy against cold cruelty,
                all rent and torn by brutal rage.
Fear haunted eyes, hair blood-matted,
        raw wounds on wasted limbs clearly
                show the painful cost of vengeance.
As refugees hopeless scatter
        cross the globe in search of safety,
                so she looks in vain for a home.
Are there lands where it still matters
        that children are taught harmony?
                A place still willing to welcome
                        a fugitive whose name is Peace?
        where gaping hole and blasted tree
                tell, unbidden, stories of war.
Barely clothed in bloody tatters,
        flimsy against cold cruelty,
                all rent and torn by brutal rage.
Fear haunted eyes, hair blood-matted,
        raw wounds on wasted limbs clearly
                show the painful cost of vengeance.
As refugees hopeless scatter
        cross the globe in search of safety,
                so she looks in vain for a home.
Are there lands where it still matters
        that children are taught harmony?
                A place still willing to welcome
                        a fugitive whose name is Peace?
