Before you explain the war... count the children. Before the borders, before the flags, before the reasons dressed in words... count the children. A child is not a statistic. A child is not collateral. I saw the sky break open on a little street Saw a mother hold a name she could not keep Saw dust on the window, blood on the bread Another small voice folded under the dead They call it defence from a polished room While little shoes disappear beneath the ruin Everybody has a reason, everybody has a need But how many graves does a border need? Tell me who won when the playground burns Who gets the medal when a mother never learns Where her child went when the daylight fell If this is victory then victory looks like hell Count the children one by one under the smoke under the sun Count every daughter count every son Before you tell me who has won Count the children before the flags begin If they are not safe then nobody wins A number on a screen is easy to forget A face is harder when you've learned its silhouette A school bag hanging where a doorway used to be A little hand beneath somebody's history They argue over maps they argue over blame As though a line on paper makes the suffering change Power speaks loudly when the powerless bleed So tell me again what your victory means A child never chose your ancient fight Never drew the border never picked a side Never signed the order never fired a gun Yet somehow they're the ones we keep counting when it's done Count the children one by one under the smoke under the sun Count every daughter count every son Before you tell me who has won Count the children before the flags begin If they are not safe then nobody wins A child is not a statistic. A child is not collateral. Not a consequence Not a necessary price Not a sentence hidden under somebody's rights Don't give me numbers and expect me not to see Every number had a heartbeat Every heartbeat had a dream And if your answer needs a child's goodbye If your justice needs another mother asking why Then call it anything you need it to be... but don't call it peace. If your peace needs their silence, it is not peace. Count them. Not the borders. Not the weapons. Not the victories. The children. Count the children one by one under the smoke under the sun Count every daughter count every son Until their names outlive the guns Count the children before another morning comes If they are not safe then nobody wins Count the children... Count the children... For every child buried beneath somebody else's story. For every mother told to wait for history. For every truth they tried to make too complicated to feel. [End] ©Quantum Soul 2026 All rights reserved
