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Far, far away, the world is at war.

Death is knocking at every door.

Far, far away, Children are dying.

Mothers with infants, hungry and crying.

Why is this land more valued than life?

What value is land to cause mortal strife?

Miles of sand with bloodshed bought.

This is their land, cherished and sought.

We ponder this question,

With hearts broken and bowed.

Is land more valued

And life less owed?

Far, far away, blood will be shed.

Far, far away , desert soil turns red.

This is the value of war fiercely fought,

Fighting for land,

Upon earth God has wrought.

When mutated harvest,

Can only reap,

Vengence and death,

Where no child may sleep.

Far, far away,

In a land bathed in blood,

Soldiers lay dying,

Amid rubble and mud.

What possible worth

Can any war be

When death cruel and brutal

Remains man's destiny?