C.O.W. (Casualties of War, 12.30.1996)

In a cold December morning,
When ashes still mourning,
As quiet as the graveyard,
No one ever glad.

A world without music,
The truce ended in tragic,
A day of a dread,
Green stone not a jade.

Some ant walks,
Other chats and talks,
The bliss ascends little,
Their thoughts fully puzzled.

The bitter cry of the mortal souls,
Their loud and unconsoled howls,
The unhealed scar on their minds,
Anger, pain, tears, bleeded hearts.

Where are the people's smile?
Is it there across the miles?
The dying leaves whispered dim,
The smile never seen.

It is better to burn out,
Than just to stay alive,
There will be no tomorrow,
The future coated with sorrow.

Hope is in deep hollow,
No bright days to follow,
And yes on Adam's fall,
We suffered all.