Standing in the place where the alley once stood, he reminisced their first kiss. “I miss you”, he etched on a brick in the debris. It’s been 8 years. One night had changed his life. Shattered everything. But the debris remained. He threw the rock and walked away in grief. The rock fell near something that shimmered in the scorching sun. It was a promise ring.
war
Violence
Wars are never won
because they are always
devastating, leaving behind
fruitless success to be
adorned by the tears of
the bereaved.
Biblichor 