Candles lit for the past
Brings memories ripped apart,
In solaces, tears on a pillow
Soundless plays the radio
My hopes died in this town;
The moment the flag went down
Half mast by an hero came a dew,
Mentors are great compass for the new;
In solace, on thy bed, thy pray
To make thee more of thy by day.
But these winds from the window
Keeps cleaning thy darkest shadow
Such that thy fierce images and frames
Can’t be lost down memory lanes,
For thy has become an household name
Thy fallen heroes and glory days are same.