A misty smoke

rose above the stream

reflecting light from the sun

a magical dream

Transported to

another time and place

hearing sounds from the past

when others saw a different fate

Hearing gun shots

war cries in the air

terrible suffering

no glory there

Getting closer

there are murmurs of peace

tired of fighting

the warriors are weak

From a fire

papers are signed

there is much celebration

drinking of wine

Starting over

learning to live

the land and people prosper

there is much to give

Returning to the present

the winds are war blow again

weapons shooting in the air

does the cycle ever end