• A kitten white as snow,
    Sits near the window
    He is meek and pure
    Never man to endure

    Yet beyond his realm, the rockets whistle in the air,
    Man is lost yet again, another war we cannot bear.
    The smoke blood and fire approach, can you hear?
    The footsteps louder by our gates, foreign soldiers near.

    Children and mothers now can say
    The laws of the land no longer hold sway.

    So there the power of war indeed lay waste,
    To the earth which is shaken from her place,

    So meek and pure Oh lovely cat do voice; "My lord,
    Swift is the hand that holds the sword."