Mothers wail

on the other side of the wall. 

Comfort’s hands

cover my ears.

Blood spills

on the other side of the wall.

Comfort’s hands

cover my eyes.

Bodies rot

on the other side of the wall.

Brother’s hands

cover my nose.

Children die

on the other side of the wall.

Brother’s voice

eases my mind.

In a world 

of horrors, we’d rather be blind.

Brother, brother,

sing us a lullaby.