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