In one of the multitudinous, lacerated, camps lies his abode
Feeble and fragile, however hopes still kept afloat
That pipe dream for silk, satin, and such, to embrace him tight
The coarse earth he rests his head on every harrowing night
Is, but, one of the myriad sufferings he endures
In dire hope of keeping that dream secure.

Shelter, warmth, and love
Something he solicits from up above
The young asylum carves his unheard pleas into a tune
Prayed, with one intent.
Make war cease or us immune,
Give us a home and let us retrieve that sense of belonging, that’d be a godsend.

It is things like these we do not experience
Therefore taking peace and harmony for granted
A little bit more overboard and we’d lose our balance
And we’d be back where our past had started.
Let us be appreciative for stability and tranquillity in this place we belong
Impending wars shall remind us to stay strong
Together we build up and unassailable citadel
Home, where our heart is, undeniably loved well

Goh Xiao-Qing
3 Grace