Myanmar (The Scars of War)

Henry Johnson LR
2 min readOct 26, 2023

In the aftermath of battles fought,

Lies a haunting landscape, deeply wrought.

Scars of war etched upon the Burmese,

A testament to the chaos that once spanned.

Where peaceful fields once bloomed with grace,

Now bear the marks of a violent embrace.

Craters and ruins, a somber sight,

Echoing the horrors of Burmese relentless fight.

The scars run deeper than the earth’s skin,

Etched upon Burmese souls, a pain within.

Beneath the surface, unseen by all,

Linger the wounds, both big and small.

In broken homes, shattered dreams,

Silent screams still echo in the seams.

Loss and grief, like shadows cast,

A constant reminder of a turbulent past.

Yet amidst the darkness, a flicker of light,

I pray that hope emerges, and take flight.

Let resilience blooms, wiping away war scars like a fragile flower,

Healing wounds, with each passing hour.

From the scars of war, strength does rise,

hoping peace, beyond the current pieces,

Fashioned in grace, and let this be a

testament to the human spirit’s guise.

In unity and love, I pray BURMA,

find your way,

Mending the scars, day by day.

Make hope, an awakening grace

Remember, as you move ahead,

The cost of war, the lives it has shed.

May peace find solace, where scars reside,

And in your hearts, may love always abide.

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Henry Johnson LR

I am a Liberian-born American writer with great ideas to impact lives and leave this world a little better than I found it.