Birds fly high, across these sacred skies

blessed so long ago

forgotten now, maybe so

but through this maze

from vanities charade

to the military parades

lies our subconscious thought

for peace

to be fought, or to be not

across these ravaged wastelands

through the barren seas

peace it isn't the sites we see,

it's the air we breathe.

So remember comrades

that life is a dialogue,

not no monologue.

And that in the end

family is the best bet.