They hear our cries out for help,
but they do not show us pity or sympathy.
Nor do they turn to look our way,
as we lose our lives every day,
in every single way.
This is the story of a young child.
We're suffering.
I'm only a child,
my parents were blown to pieces.
It's just my brother and I now.
These people are murderous bastards,
how can I stop this madness?
This horrible, horrible world
is overtaking me,
along with so many others.
I'm sitting here in the middle of a battlefield.
One I wish that I could end.
I'm scared shitless.
I've lost my friends, my relatives...
I have so much hate for this world.
There's no way I'll survive it.
There's no way that my brother will survive.
How and why would I want to live?
I'm such a young child.
The lands are smoking.
They're on fire,
bombs everywhere.
Oh how I wish I could stop this war!
Nobody deserves to see this destruction.
My world is broken.
I'd rather face death than this war.
My world is broken.
