Little bullets, little shells.
The ping echoes very well.
The sound of lead falling to the ground.
Peace has finally been found.

The cheering noise of the winners.
And the calming complaints of the losers.
The arguments about anything False and True.
And the hugs between me and you.

Everyone and everything,
With their own noises and things.
But what I love about such loudness,
Is that people won't mind our business.

The little sound of lips touching,
The movement of our kissing.
The little wounds on my shirt
And the victory in our heart.