An open city of the future living without the prospect of never being bombed again.

Where are the gods and men
who made us who we are today?
A broken town comes to grips
with new found verve
after being declared an open city.

Glass shards are upon the ground
tearing hearts of fine young souls
brave and bold were they
still in their flaming youth
sharply dressed in their favorite suits.

All the pretty ladies looking fine
in their working apparel
charming smiles one and all
beautiful as can be.
Their sparkling green eyes beaming.

The sky hung high with no white cirrus
no rain to drop upon silken flowers.
Their children not hungry or starving in the least
an Open city for all to savor blessed be!

No need for evil to strike again
you won that day damn you!
Go back to your hell and let heaven be.
Let us dream again under star bright nights
until calm crisp mornings come again.

Where lovers can lay on clean fields freely
mourn summer's passing to autumn's sweet arms
without worry of bombs falling ever again.

Winds of change will follow
the moratorium enacted -- the rung death bell tally, final.
Let us bury our dead in peace,
find a moment's joy in small blessings
for the child who still smiles,
looking at his shadow's gaze
kicking a can like a soccer ball in play.

Cheers for the lad
who will play best this day.
A game starts up near the old school grounds,
picnic baskets settle around the field
as the game picks up speed.

A plane flies overhead there's a silent hiccup in the crowd as a kicked ball goes through the goal.
No one bother's to notice looking up in fear to see
a hush falls upon this city once sure and bold.

A moment is a lifetime for some
and a sense of relief.
A child complains he didn't get a point
for his score. They start the game again.