• Standing still
    looking at the mill
    from a far away hill.

    Gentle breeze,
    and the suns gleam.

    No being stir,
    only my heart whirs.

    The grassy field appear
    like an ocean;
    it moves in a slow motion.

    It's the breaking of dawn
    I sing myself a little song

    The harmony is broken

    My brothers approach me,
    sweating excessively;
    dirt in the grit of their teeth.

    Shells dropping
    lights flashing
    high pitced bees fly past us.

    Taking cover,
    running like no other;
    blood is spilled.

    It sends me a chill,
    and if that is my fate then it will.

    Eyes of determination,
    heart racing.
    Screams of anguish
    they want this battle
    and they won't have it.

    Death appears and goes
    almost as if no one knows