She was gazing at a land of hilly terrain from a land of hilly terrain.
At a land with a 2400 km coastline from a land with a 2400 km coastline.
At a land of summer rainfall from a land of summer rainfall.
She was gazing at one Korea from one Korea.
She was gazing at a crowd of human beings with a crowd of human beings.
The same peninsula,
The same history,
The same geography,
The same culture,
The same language,
The same traditions,
The same festivals,
The same people.
Only a man-made political border separated them;
But sadly, that made all the difference in the world.
She whispered to herself, “Does this war have an end?”
Years of war and decades of hate had only given way to more war and more hate.
A family of families
Torn apart by the greed of politicians
And the ruthlessness of generals.
A peninsula united by culture and history
But divided by politics.
She looked down at her 10-year-old son, playing with the sand, blissfully oblivious of the unfair world around him,
A world that was at odds with itself.
“Does this war have an end?”
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