Demanding Answers After The Chemical Attacks In Damascus

I was not afraid of the clock, ticking, 
dividing your attention. A guarded 
withdrawl of the statement, had 
brought a comic relief to the distraught 
vicitims. 

Caving on guns, the 
mustard cloud could wipe out 
the entire generation. 

The tender bodies 
wrapped up in white cloaks, 
ready to be sent back 
to mother's womb: earth. 

Why a sun wanted to 
pass out gingerly?