I couldn’t speak of 4·3 while growing up
The red rust, at first blush, looks like a bloodstain.
The mangjuseok might have been shot to save people from pain,
now left with a scar inlaid by history as a message to sustain.
The stone pillars stand upright, fighting oblivion,
with solidity to outlive eternity,
grasping the metal, and wailing at the merciless gunshots of that day.