Storm
Months flashed by like lightning bolt
And memories echo a distant thunder
Renewal rain turns ruins to gold
Only five meagre days left over
Seasonal winds whistle as they blow
The past now a golden treasure
Remaining time tightly we must hold
My comrades, my friends and my brothers
stormthefront
And memories echo a distant thunder
Renewal rain turns ruins to gold
Only five meagre days left over
Seasonal winds whistle as they blow
The past now a golden treasure
Remaining time tightly we must hold
My comrades, my friends and my brothers
stormthefront
resolute at 2:25 PM
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