War never Changes. br It forever tears br through the night sky, br painting its blooming flowers br of purple, red and orange br against the clouds, br bringing with it br a rain of death br that finally takes br the young men home. br br Home to the cities and hills br of their native land, br where only the tears br of their loved ones br can wash them clean. br br The whistle of incoming bombs br is the only birdsong heard, br and color seems to have left br the earth leached and gray. br br Even the sun has lost its gold, br turning instead sickly pale, br losing even its heat br that warms old men's bones. br br No plants grow br in this bombed out crater of land, br no flowers bloom br with their saving grace of beauty. br br Despair is br the only thing living here, br and Death has finally taken br the young men home.