Bubblezzz Seriezzz: Gifts of war...... are never kind

The ground remembers what the sky forgot, The iron heavy where the olive grew, A bitter inheritance, unasked, unbought, Left in the ash where the morning blew. They promise glory in a gilded frame, But leave a ledger written in the dust— A shattered window, an unspoken name, A childhood traded for a broken trust. No grace is found beneath the falling stone, No mercy lingers where the echoes fade, The "gifts" of war are silent and alone: A hollow hearth, a shadow deeply made.