Lone in thou mid-night,
darkens the day by the horizon.
the uneased air has hindered their sight,
birds change their due course of direction.
Flowers bloomed with dispair,
the sunlight seem lost,
eyes of hope in frost.
and at the 7th hour,
The war against their own kind had begun.
the barrels of bullets, the soldiers lour
fired to conquer lands.
hour of battle with pointless desires,
souls turned to sand,
Someone had lost,someone had won,
as every being loses someone deared
to see eyes of hope in frost.
the way the loss of someone is beared.
