Smoke, Fire, and Recurring Cycles
Statements echo from a cold high podium
Middle Eastern winds carry heavy warnings
People speak of armies
Of footsteps soon to land on foreign ground
In the night over Tehran
Explosions tear the silent sky apart
No one has time to ask
What the target is
Only remains
Flames and nameless fear
Ships carrying thousands of lives
Silently advance into heated waters
Like a chessboard already set
Waiting only for a wrong move
A call for unity rises
In what is called the most critical of days
A “great war”
No one truly wishes to name
Yet everyone knows
It has already begun
I think of an older war
Where the fields of Vietnam
Once trembled under bombs and fire
Where young soldiers
Never had the chance to understand why they were there
History feels like a circle
Different names
Different maps
But the pain remains familiar
One side issues warnings
The other delivers responses
Between them stand human lives
Who did not choose this war
But must live with it
Smoke still drifts
Across Tehran
Across memories
Across pages of history that never truly close
And somewhere
In the faintest whisper of the wind
Lingers the same old question repeated
Whether humanity has learned anything at all
After all the wars that have
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Author: Trần Thị Lan Anh
© Copyright belongs to Trần Thị Lan Anh.
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