World War In Winter Poem by Alexander Foald

And the leaves of the trees falling like snows in winter
No matter how long they’ll get on the ground and falter
Time will keep watching as they’re flown in mid air
Still innocent to the weight of their complicated affair

And the gloves of two little hands shaking in freezing cold
Bottomless dreams she had now seems so far to be reachable
What she thought would be easy to be done, is now being told
In a story which she cannot hear anymore from beneath the ground

And the thousands of fireworks coloring the soundless night
Every time they put out a line with agony and spite toward each other
Singing angels cannot be heard and crying children they have ignored
All the god’s men are smeared in joy and praise of their epical history,
Stained only by the bleeding soil and screaming blunt, haunting past