Irony
The saddest
of the stories are never heard.
The ugliest
knows the purest of love.
In the
bluest of the ocean,
Death crawls
with million tongues.
Epitaphs on
the unknown graves,
Are the most
poignant ones.
Hidden in
the endless green valley,
Corpses of
the soldiers we will never know.
Songs and
dances in the glittering light,
Cannot chase
away darkness of million years,
Where life
and flesh are bought and sold.
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