by THONG BA LE A creation of MINHTHONG.NET

The old chariot stopped at the dark oak tree. The tired old horse exhausted.

The old man leaned on his trembling feet checking the loose tread wheels, shaking

He drank from the old military canteen and fed the horse. He did not move to wipe off the fly that was sucking salty sweat off his neck, feeding.

Just like the old miserable country, suffered from destruction from napalm bombs and famine, in a long yet ended war and surviving.

The people were bored. Those powerful dictators too. There was nothing left for them to collect... so depressing. He cried in many endless silent nights, awakening...

by THONG BA LE The old chariot stopped at the dark oak tree. The tired old horse exhausted. The old man leaned on his trembling feet checking the loose tread wheels, shaking He drank from the old military canteen and fed the horse. He did not move to wipe off the fly that was sucking salty sweat off his neck, feeding. Just like the old miserable country, suffered from destruction from napalm bombs and famine, in a long yet ended war and surviving. The people were bored. Those powerful dictators too. There was nothing left for them to collect... so depressing. He cried in many endless silent nights, awakening... A Creation of MINHTHONG.NET