In a green field, untouched by war or violence
I gaze on the horizon, where the thunderstorm looms.
It brings our doom,
the inevitable is not far away.
Hiding is of no use,
nor is running,
how can you run from the future,
if you can't outrun the past?
Death, despair, destruction
all march towards this green field.
And I can hear the horns,
the messengers of our end.
The thunder sparks I can see from here
laugh at us, remind us that we can't run.
When your doom is inevitable
and surrounds you from every direction,
something awakens inside,
that has slept forever.
It is hope, and persistence;
the anchors of your ship
which sails in a stormy sea,
a sea of mistakes, death, and despair.
And so we prepare ourselves,
for our last stand,
against war and violence
in a field of peace and kindness.
For there exists no life
if there isn't any hope,
and the only thing required for hope,
is the willingness to sacrifice.
SOURCE: 1