The sky was cloudy heavy
the earth with each other
war against the angry nations.
They sang innocent
bombs, terrorism traps.
Somewhere in the midst of chaos
miraculous walked with bowed head
auburn-haired woman.
He was at times too much
fear submissive. Sometimes
raised his head towards the sky,
hoping, thinking and pondering.
That will never be in vain
March is poured into the arms of the mother's blood.
Then he would get red-brown
be hair color
proud, in the light of the sun head
upright bathe.
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