The fortress walls on the mountain peaks crumble,
Leaving no traces of arms
In the thick fog on the river, it\'s being,
The fishing boat faintly informs.
The urgent calls of soldiers\'ve vanished,
Unheard, which scattered as the wind.
But now indifferent birds cry out,
Their voices carried by the wind.
(Apr. 13th, 2024, Kinsley Lee)