The meadow gossiped of joy,

The children giggled with play,

Prancing through the flowers,

Keeping sadness at bay.

But the world still whispered of sorrow,

Of lost warriors who never came home,

Wondering, sometimes, if we could survive 'til tomorrow;

Those beings with nowhere to go.

But the flowers still murmured of happiness,

The leaves still whispered of love,

Speaking of what can only be so

If we manage to rise above.