Sarajevo ricochet remembrance

You can still hear the echoes of screams emanating from the parks and buildings
Rattling the bridges,
Drilling through cement
Bullet holes and residual gun powder
Falling in the dust
Blood stains filled in with paint
Held as a reminder, kept as a signifier of the new found freedom of an independent state
To know unrest was no more than 25 years ago
A siege of three and a half years
Living in constant fear
The unknown interrupted with bullet shells
Bombs falling from the sky
Into civilian homes
Echoing through the fresh graves at a funeral
death becomes more death
and life is a constant question mark,
in the name of power and national identity, in the name of financial security,
civil unrest and vague border lines
It seems long ago and alien
Until
you see it,
Until
you meet those that crawled along the border line
into the mountainous forest
to fetch water and medical resources,
until
you speak to those who lived through this
who saw their family and friends laying in a pool of blood on the cement,
sniper bullets pinging off buildings like an arcade game,
bullets shooting out from fighter planes embedding into forgotten flesh
grenades breaking through the ground like man-made metiorites
this was a war on civilians,
a genocide against non-Serbs and “traitors” of a nationalistic military regime
to claim land that is united by peace rather than ethnicity,
to claim more than what is served
in pursuit of dominating
separates people from humanity
to laugh in the face of a deluded pursuit is how sarajevo survived
after 1,452 days of Serbian military besiegement

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