The sky remains clear, the dawn shining brightly, yet smoke clouds the mind. Low, vague whispers drift around the deserted lake. Eyes are broken, quiet, with misplaced smiles. Voices, some sorrowful, laced with laughter, carry darkness. Footsteps are faint, lacking strength. Sadness resides here, accompanied by the darkness of time. A desperate wish for the end of the war turns to despair. But where can war go? Among shadowy faces, beneath the yellow, leafless tree, from roots burned half a century ago?!
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Author:
Shahla Latifi (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 16th, 2026 14:48
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 4
Offline)
Comments1
This is a wistful feel to a desperate and dark world. It asks the question where can war go and then gives the image of yellow leaves and mentions fifty years as a feel of endlessness. Nicely done
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