No human foot had stepped there in fifty years.
To the south, wire fences, razor-thin; to the north, behind guns, steely-eyed men.
Into the uneasy quiet of truce stepped the backwards grey legs of the crane, majestic, crowned with red. Cautious, careful, he entered the barbed-wire haven and made a home.
To the south, concrete, fortified walls; to the north, a brazen loudspeaker calls.
He was joined by tiger, leopard, and bear. Plants grew anew, threatened life reappeared. A humanless Eden flourished there.
To the south, a city with hope for peace dwells; to the north, a city of soulless shells.
Life in the midst of death. A haven surrounded by war. A nation divided, and in between, beauty.
To the south, freedom. To the north, hope.