在手机上保存，获得更好体验
Morning arrives before the bells can ring.
The air feels older than yesterday.
Someone is still waiting
for footsteps that never return.
The news keeps changing,
yet the sorrow wears the same face.
One family loses a father.
Another loses a child.
Across distant borders,
windows remain lit through the night.
Not because of celebration,
but because no one can sleep.
The wind moves through empty streets,
carrying names
that deserve another tomorrow.
If kindness
could travel farther than anger,
perhaps another sunrise
would belong to everyone.
When the last gun sleeps,
let every child wake beneath a quiet sky.
Let every mother
hold the ones she loves.
May every road
lead someone safely home.
May every evening
end with laughter instead of fear.
When the last gun sleeps,
let the earth become gentle again.
Mountains never ask
where people were born.
Rivers never choose
who may drink beside them.
The stars above
shine with the same calm light,
waiting for us
to remember
how precious every life has always been.
No promise is too small.
No embrace is ever wasted.
Peace begins
long before treaties are written.
It begins
when another person's tears
matter as much as our own.
When the last gun sleeps,
let every city welcome another spring.
Let every table
keep every chair filled.
May every goodbye
become another reunion.
May every heartbeat
carry hope instead of fear.
When the last gun sleeps,
let love become
the language
shared by every land.
Until that day arrives,
I will believe.
When the last gun sleeps.
