I want to paint-  the taste of smoke torturing my taste buds, the sound of gas masks banging and bouncing around in wooden boxes and sweat dripping from my forehead.

I want to paint- terrified children shivering as the ice cold breeze passes by, the cries of mothers as loud as sirens and the death of a strong soldier for their time on this earth fades away.                    

I want to paint- anxiety and deepest fears looking for their next victim, the sound of clouds crying like a baby throwing a tantrum, and the agony of leaving parents that cuts you deep inside.

I want to paint the end of this deadly death war.