Chains

People suffer

and you

watch.

It's too much,

your heart

seems to

be always

broken,

for them

and myriads others.

You want to help

but

your hands are

tied.

Anxiety

of every sort

lies tight

around your wrists,

cold and calculating.

It whispers cruelly,

threatening,

threatening to cut you

if you even 

think about

escape.

May these chains

be broken,

may life return

to despairing limbs.

Our brothers

need our help.

We are at war.