It was during a month:
the September dawn
My attention was entirely being drawn
The neck of a desert donkey is strained
After pulling the strong cart remained
Along the sand dunes of the desert land
Carrying the debris of soldiers   beyond;
their dead bodies dried by many days
and unable to  wrap in any  other ways,
their last requests dying  unaccomplished.
It was during a month:
The December dusk,
My thought was entirely on the mask
the clouds were made of ashes and rain;
the earth pregnant with its body pain
Is war bringing us any further gain
*
By Williamsji Maveli