The colour of what is left

Destruction leaves a sour taste in our mouth,
Hope we retain
When we look beyond what is spoilt and lost,
Strength we regain.
Like as from the ashes of a Phoenix,
A new one grows.
To forge a better future for ourselves
We march in rows
Each man on his own stand may be shattered,
Maybe broken
But United we stand firm and rigid.
Our hope token
We know that if we stand then we can cope.
The storm may never end but we have hope.

Yeni