A body without a soul
Can no longer offer good.
When the final breath is drawn,
It can no longer carry out evil.
The dreams of a little child
Have now been left behind.
Look now to your survival—
And leave something kind.
One gentle word—
You will treasure it for years.
But cruel words spoken
You will remember for eternity.
The bullet that you hear
Is not the one that kills you.
The bullet that does kill you—
You never hear at all.
From the collection's own note: the images with these poems are AI-created artistic renderings by the source, not historical photographs.