Hey !
Ok let's go for the little story :
"During a bombing raid, a woman gets hurt as she's trying to protect her husband from the falling roof. As she passed away in his arms, the man rushes outside the house and screams against the bombs that continue to fall al around him."
It came to me, not as an hypothetical event from a distant past, but as a tragedy that might be happening everyday somewhere on the planet.
We can multiply peace gestures and pacific postures without never being able to achieve tranquility of the conscience. Peace is extremely fragile. Like a white paper dove.
So peace my friends.
They turned a blind eye to
Her sacrifice
It may be asked if it was
A roll of dice
No more pressure, no more words
Can keep the warring sides apart
Her breast is cold and white
Like melting ice
She smiled and said goodbye
Now you're not afraid to die
Whispered a taste of her love
In your ear
With a white paper dove
She caught your tear
A simple echo of the heart
Trapped in a golden sphere
And when push comes to shove
She'll disappear
