in the surrounding chaos of turmoil

Battered daily with casualties of

barefaced lies and evil plots

Backs turned to protect precious prizes

While uttering in gentle whispers

Fearful and prayerful hopes

Of not getting fatally pierced by strays

To become a statistical victim of circumstance

But more importantly

To breath in the fresh foreign air

Of meticulously planned flight

to El Dorado

And bask in eternal sunshine and

Smile at beckoning possibilities