Triumph

The tears streamed down her tiny face
like drops of rain on a window pane.
She was innocent, a child in a war torn place,
whose loss was etched in her fragile face.

The face that cowards who brought the war
dismissed as the price for moving their cause.
The cause that grew from fear and greed,
and brought her weeping to her knees.

She would survive and grow to forgive their demented deeds.
letting go of the hate she would be freed
to see that fear does not conquer all,
and love will trump hate at the final call.