Crimson ink, smeared upon the lonely ground,
Awaiting to evaporate in the dusty, autumn air.
Moonlight illuminated the quiet war zone,
The victims lay, pulseless as midnight unfolded.
Ravenous souls hovers like sad butterflies,
Searching sunshine to sip, seeking shelters to rest.
Whispering hearts, too weak to tango for the stars,
Lying within those tiny universes, waiting to be plowed.
The crescendo of arsenals had temporarily ceased.
The laughter of freedom had turned into silence.
The wails of the beings, like the mournful chirps pf the wrens.
The turquoise sky of tomorrow, forever black. afar...
Lybia, soon to hum her last lullaby for her beloved people.
