Red Morning

I've lived through a red morning,

Where white snow is dotted red,

And thunder from far away,

Replaces the birds' songs.

I've stood in a barren meadow,

Where tall grass is beaten into the ground,

And footprints of a thousand men,

Grow in place of wild flowers.

I've waded in a sea's waters,

Where grey ships block the horizon,

And smoke as thick as clouds,

Consumes the golden sunlight.

I've cried in a dark, dank shelter,

Where strangers are my family,

And men's yells and screams,

Are my only lullabies.

I've lived through a red morning,

Where crimson rivers stain my feet,

And all that was once beautiful,

Has been burned in Men's hatred,

And its ashes are blown away,

To be nothing more…

Nothing more…

Than the remains of war.