• The blood of red,
    that gives us sorrow,
    like many pieces of thread,
    hoping it will be gone by tomorrow.

    Hearing loud booms,
    that give us fear,
    burying people in tombs,
    while we shed a tear.

    The noise dies down,
    all we see is red,
    and the ones who live will wear the crown,
    but we will always remember the dead.