...................War..................

 A voice so deep in fright,

Pining for the callousing sight;

Of a healing sight that could never be inside

But, for was there no ear to lend a caressing bite.

From the depth to the rise all there was;

A mark of red and a patch of black.

Fragrance of cruelty filled all over the park,

With blossoming flowers smashed under the bark.

There was no sight of a weeping bride,

Nor was there any sob or a tear beside.

The Sun had wept and mourned,

Such that the Moon could not surround.

Six days and a seventh one, was what this took to be one.

Peace was the ; Ying Yang to be made one.

Piece was it made of in a mere one,

Thus the pieces could never be one