It's a cold summer in the woods the gregarious chant of the birds and the swarm of playful ants brought an unpleasant memories of my love ones who had drop out of my sight through unaviodable vicious attack as war become our permanent nature War with all its concomitant sufferings brought us a miserable lives suckling babies cried for their perished mothers old men wept bitterly for their departed little ones When will that great day be? When war will become an outdated word and humanity will beat the drum for two score and a tens years that agony of war as parted with human race but it become a bleak hope as war become our neccessary evil