I can still smell the burning
The flames creating a hundred dying sunsets,
A sky suffocating itself,
And then there was the bodies,
The smell never leaves you,
The dying never dies,
It never goes away,
How is war so mighty,
When I have seen skin
And bone
Life and ligament
Cast to ash
And if you’re lucky enough you’ll have metal grace your skull before the flame catches light,
You’ll pray for the end during the end,

Where is the mighty,
Where is the victory,
Believe me I’ve searched,
I’ve search camps
And conquests
And soldiers
And spoken to refuge and safety
And city and village
I have spoken to the barrel of the gun
And those who made me
The comfort who sent this world into flames
I have spoken to them all
I have spoken to them all and asked them all where is victory
Where is victory if it is not in the winning
When winning is just a different sort of dying
What is this victory
This mighty
This great
I cannot find it amongst the ash of my enemies
I cannot find it amongst the ash of my family
I cannot find it amongst the ash of my mother, my father, my sisters, my brothers,
I cannot find it amongst the ash of my neighbours,
The woman who served me bread,
The man who gave me rivers and fish,
I cannot find it,
No matter what ground I have searched no matter what explanation I have been given, I have not found victory

So where is victory
Is it somehow left in the souls who’ve left this space
Who stood infront of the bullet and closed their eyes to God, whispering his name in their last exhale,
There must be a victory, it was taught to us in school,
Maybe this victory they talk of, isn’t really victory maybe it is just the naked death dressed up in costume,
Maybe the victory isn’t even escaping, retreating,
Maybe it is the fight without fighting, the hand raised with no trigger inbetween the forefinger, maybe it is the silent love that will scream as it turns to dust,

Maybe it is the love,
Maybe it is the love,
Maybe it is love

Maybe the victory is love.