The hills are awash with the blood of my children . . . 

The hills are bright with the sounds of their cries . . .

Enemies rape and maim their corpses . . .

Depraved laughter echoes due to the end of their lives. . .

The cheers of triumph at the cost of humanity  . . . 

They gaze upon the scene with bloodshot eyes . . .

Thousands of corpses, only civilians . . . 

A village so peaceful, now destroyed . . . 

What once was so green and beautiful . . .

Is now a landscape of carnage and destruction.