The Bell of an Ancient Battlefield

Softly and sleekly

Fluffy grass weaves a sweeping green carpet that once got holes

 

White clouds wander quietly in distance

The sky remains just the same blue face

 

The shouts and screams have vanished already

The tears and wounds are carved in broken walls

 

Eagles glide over lowly

But no longer pick up bloody remains

 

The once foggy gunpowder smoke

Has been pressed by the rocks into green moss

 

Even sharpest knives and bullets got blunt in the flow of time

Even the strongest fighters didn’t get to read their own epitaphs

 

Brushing rays and strands of cooling lessons

Timeless breezes swing through the million year old summer hills

 

A story is murmured in the visitors’ steps

A truth is tapped between the stones burying no names

 

A bell rings loud without a sound

The listeners breathe heavily in a jelly canned silence

 

For what the fights were?

For whom the bell rings?

 

The sun shines broadly just like the ancient time

May the wind of love spread the seeds of peace