War builds ruinous. While, Peace turns all these ruins into a Silence; Silence filled with disaster, untold pain, drain agony, and drowned out cries. The silence that exists in the bewildered looks in the eyes of a sad child. The silence of peace is like this. At the same time, it was ready. Are there birds singing in far? … Is that a Woodpigeon? … Is there any opened window still on the wall? But, as long as this silence is not a burden, the song of warbler is just enough, maybe; to display sprout of life, to paint dawn in white, to the murmuring of a rivulet.
The Silence of peace to forsake existence, death and dark grief of hatred, but maintains in itself an inmost eternity; the soundless eternity which never makes a loud noise; never reveal its profound hidden.