Wounded on the quiet battlefield,
A joyless heroe staggered to the sun
Where each orange flame danced, happilly,
Until the lavender light mingled with the crimson glow of blood.
On the lonesome sky, a young dove hovered,
Scattered droplet of peace upon his scars.
The mourn of the dead never ceased to wake those who were alive,
The glistening ray from heaven's lawn illuminated the dark vortex of inferno,
Far away, a star glimmered. Love was born.
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