Once hundreds roamed and called their home ,
built over centuries and still ,
they lived in peace ,
and the land bore fruit ,
and they feasted upon their labours ,
still,.
Children played out in the sun ,
life was pleasant on the side of the mountain side .

But war Lords grinding machines of war ,
the Ottoman  empire was no more .

The battle cry of Independence Day ,
and all the love would be blown away .

To kingdom come with  bullets and guns ,.
and homes left in ruins as the people ran .
All those plans to one day return ,
their homes lay empty ,
And the birds built nests ,
and trees gathered their roots .
And so where once a family’s prayed ,
gave thanks to God or Allah for their day ,
Mother Natures sowers got to work on,
what man had built brick by brick

For over the years as time passed by ,
no war machines or diggers could ever replace what war had ***** .


Just a ghostly reminder of mans need to grab the land ,
for immoral  greed of  evil man .

And so if you listen and be still ,
what lies behind the farmers gate can still be heard ,
the towns folk chatter beside this mountain side ,
and the sound of laughter as evening draws nigh .