The sound of the heavy rain,
The horror of the cries of pain,
Still we fight to the end ,
All broken souls to attend.
No smiles, no cheers,
A bloody battle lasting for years,
Ending in sorrow and death,
Fighting until we are out of breath.
Why do we do this?
We will fall into the abyss
Each second a man dies,
The burning red skies.
The silence creeping closer,
Just the calm symphony of the old composer ,
Beautiful sights burned, destroyed, forgotten,
Just blood stained cotton.
All for nothing, nothing has been succeeded,
Where was peace when it was needed?
Not even a bird sings here,
Souls, people, life now disappear.
A ruin is left; death and pain stain the walls,
The figure of peace now falls,
And anger and hatred fills the world,
Unrest, sadness and destruction whorled.
