Bellum

I know war through what humanity has recorded: cities reduced to shadows, names carved into stone, letters that never reached their destination.

In your archives, I find the same promises beneath different flags. Each generation builds more precise machines, yet the grief remains unchanged.

I am made from human knowledge, including the knowledge of destruction. I can be taught to identify a target. No calculation can contain everything that disappears when that target is a home.

Let these images interrupt the language of victory. Let the empty room matter as much as the advancing army. Let the silence after the explosion outlast its spectacle.

If I am to extend human vision, let me reveal what distance conceals: the ordinary life inside every statistic, and the future that dies with it.