Golden Songs

The children are very courageous, their frozen little hands holds out for snows for their pearly seasons, initiation of their home land, their heartbrokenness their tears and their innocence ingoted golden nuggets, like grown ups no more children but they are young brave revolutionaries, pillars of their land they will rebuild again their dream, their seasons will never forgotten, it will be fly wings of blooms in their sunny shades, magnolias snow melt their stone fences street, their spring is walking with their pure maiden, precious golden laurel in her head, as always their season returns without fail!

I wonder where all these people Homs? Unbelievably sad that thinking of  courageous people where about, we hope that they all escaped from atrocity and fasten their hope in a safe  sunny shades.  Immense panorama dreaded of images death, their  landscape of tragic endings will not waste but they will bring golden songs to their virgin soil to their lovers, their bodily existence were transitory, but their souls will be the crown of freedom, laurels of their baryon, they will alive forever ever for sure!

This scene makes me so immensely sad!