Wartime liquid *****
Praises from the distant dead
A penchant for vanishing
Seamless letters, fresh and extensive
Pulsating with life, yet deceased

A life that was once so full
Now reduced to these words on a page
A testament to a time
That will never be the same

But the ***** of that life
Will live on in these words
A reminder that even in death
There is still hope for the future

So let us praise these letters
Remnants of a time
For they are a gift from the past
A reminder that even in darkness
There is always light to be found