Reflections from the Newsreel 06: Voices from Aleppo

The bombs fall like rain,
a torrent with no end,
as we sit in basements,
tombs waiting for death.
Sounds are everything;
high explosive thunder,
barrel bombs, mortars, tanks,
and the wounded's screams,
how their cries carry,
like an echo from Hell.
The city is under siege,
a constant condition
where there is no food,
no help or aid to come.
Our will to fight wanes,
like the waxing moon
as the army approaches,
their boots crushing us
until we drown in our blood.
Who will know our story?
Know our stand against tyranny?
Who will avenge us?
Innocence dies on this day
while the world watches on.
Our dead bodies the only evidence
we ever lived.
We know there is no hope.
Justice, a made-up word.
No one will save us,
the Bad Men have won,
as history erases our memory
as time moves on.