Beneath a canopy of stars, on frost-kissed soil,
In the crucible of war, a fleeting coil.
Silent night, where rifles rested low,
A symphony of peace in the moon's soft glow.

Trenches etched in mud, a labyrinthine despair,
Yet on this eve, a respite rare.
Soldiers gazed across the desolate land,
A cease-fire birthed by a gentle hand.

Candles flickered, casting shadows bold,
As carols echoed through the icy fold.
Men with wearied eyes and hearts once cold,
Shared tales of home, their stories told.

No man's land, a canvas pristine,
Untouched by the scars of war's routine.
Enemy lines blurred in the tranquil hush,
As foes turned friends in the midnight crush.

Leather balls danced 'neath the winter sky,
A match of football, where alliances lie.
In the dance of peace, they found release,
Warriors playing, longing for a lasting peace.

Beneath the heavens, a ceasefire's decree,
Soldiers stood as one, hearts longing to be free.
In the frozen quiet, a moment divine,
A timeless echo, where humanity did shine.


© #Sherlocked