, 01 2006 . 21:59
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Heeding the horrors of the fight,
With each new victim of the battle
I dont pity a friend, a wife,
I am not sorry for men lethal...
Alas! Will be consoled a wife,
And the best friend forget playfellow;
But somewhere is a spirits life
Until death it will bleed for terror!
Among our hypocritical ploys
And different platitude and prose
They are sole in the Universe
Tears sacred and sincere both
Those are tears of poor mothers!
Its unreal to forget their chit
Perished on a blood-stained cornfield
Likewise a weeping willow cant lift
Its low wilted limb.
Tsnk
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