White flags pierced by bullet holes.
Words of peace marred by ink of blood
Tears of mothers awash in the free flowing funeral flood.
Families at the dinner table fighting for a slice of money,
The taste of riches so sweet, no one smelt the poison in the honey.
It was a time when bright were the shadows and dark were the souls,
It was a time when deceit and dishonesty were the only two goals.
Yet hope wafted through the charred remains of morality.
It evaded evil and brought to the innocents some semblance of sanity.
It demasked the devils so comfortable in disguise.
It refocused the weary on the ultimate prise.
Yes, this was the best of times.
Yes, this was the worst of times.