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Twisted limbs and broken souls remain,
Coloured by the poisonous orange
That ravaged a nation,
Distorting children's endeavour
With enduring rage.

Man's destruction lies dormant
In fields that bore witness to battle
While generations unknown to war
Live with its burdens
Of body and mind.

It bled its toxin into a people
That yearn for liberty and peace.
And it is only with new life
That hope arrives
For a future absent
From the horror that preceded.

-Lena