It is a secret. My secret. A place to hide. A place to breathe. A place forgotten. Once it was the lifeblood of men and women. Cool, clear water to quench their thirst, wash away the dust and the dirt of their toils in the fields. When war came they died here, brothers, sons and fathers. Their blood stained the water red. Their bodies lay where they had fallen. Lost and forgotten. The earth claimed them back, claimed the land and the water. Now flowers bloom here again. I come to remember. To hear the voices whisper on the wind. To know there is peace somewhere, somehow. Someday I will lie down here and sleep.
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