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Glass-eyed tower, pocked with lead

Crack of dawn, the skyline bled

Stitched in crosshairs, city breathes

Breath turns red, and silence seethes

Jacketed rounds and shattered stone

From tripod thrones, they reigned alone

No scopes—just iron and belt-fed pride

Laughing while the children died

This is the Sarajevo Safari

Predators perched in ivory nests

Where children’s streets become the quarry

And mercy’s breath is laid to rest

Italians paid to man the gun

Brass and blood in morning sun

Russians steadied belt and feed

Americans filmed each pull and bleed

Canadians crouched in wooded perch

Raining hell on school and church

They weren’t ghosts, they made it known

A foreign hunt in killing zones

Marked for movement

Shot for sport

History’s entrails

Dragged through court

This is the Sarajevo Safari

Predators perched in ivory nests

Where children’s streets become the quarry

And mercy’s breath is laid to rest

Blood in the crosswalk, dust in the eye

They hunted the living beneath the gray sky

A city remembered, a silence that screams

Where machine guns wrote nightmares through once-peaceful dreams