What little of you, bound by sacred oaths — we find two
spirits, familiar with the gales that lift us toward our
aspirations.
Do we not yearn for shared laughter, as the key for
equal peace?
This laughing note to our mutual harmony?
A melody of joy that ought to resonate, yet is drowned out
by the cacophony of man's war cries, throwing us off our
intended pitch.
Where have the noble minstrels gone, strumming a melody
to caress our beat souls—to exquisite listeners?
While the architects of unjust conflicts gaze down upon the
turmoil, their hearts untouched, as everything we cherish
slips away into the chasm.
