In the shadow of the crimson dawn,
Where echoes of marching feet resound,
Lies a land both scarred and reborn,
Breathing whispers of peace profound.

Beneath the canopy of weeping skies,
Where swords once clashed and shields did break,
A tender bloom of hope now lies,
In silent fields where dreams awake.

The gentle touch of time’s embrace,
Heals wounds once raw with ancient strife,
In harmony, we find our place,
A dance of war and peace in life.

Yet still the drums of war may call,
In hearts where fear and anger grow,
But peace, a whisper through it all,
Sings softly, that we might follow.