Every night, thunders of volley guns and howls of cries
Of men and women shiver us in our dreams.
See, a shadow holding a scythe. Death is upon us!
Abrupt expiry of courageous juveniles is hunting the future.
Only hope is left for us. A desire to live, and to love.
Wishing, that one day, morning dew may fell upon our face.
No more black smokes - vapor of bloodshed.
A sigh of relief and breath of new life.
Gallipoli, are we here to stay?