CYCLE : STIGMA OF OUR SOULS
I see you my beatiful lady
As little girl in the abys
In the abys of cruel war
Your soul is protected by armor
This armor is belief, great strong
Someday over evil will win good
That makes sense human anguish
Because just, you so much trust
For fighting and starving youth
You help a priest cook filling soup
When you for water run to the well
A bomb’s shard hits you in left leg
Luckless priest quickly died hurt in head
You fill the bucket with tears
You’re limping to us come back
Surgeon your leg amputate want
But you don’t allow, very beg
And luckily rescued your sick leg
Then I see you, second nice lady
In church with homelessof war
Gather to protect, sleep, to pray
Killer bomb’s here main nave
On people giant altar here falls
At the door there you stood, survived
Screams, moans, silence of grave
And dust, blood, debris, chill, dark
Already God took them to Himself
To heavenly gardens He them leads
And you, lady still beatiful, young
From this cementery you getting out
Trough ruins of dreams you trying run
You cover cry with of hope mantle
You are like breeze of impatiente
Be careful, don’t make a mistake
( October 2, 2025 )
