Article keywords: stands, pigeon whistle, soldiers, tombstones, nobility and harmony.

Early in the morning, standing in front of your grave, I vaguely heard the siren blowing. Rows of tombstones, like teams of mighty soldiers, are ready to go. On the tombstone, a few words condense a period of bonfire years, and the bloody epitaph solidifies your young life. In the morning, standing in front of your grave, life and blood are shocking, nobility and poverty are very small and peaceful days. What cold smiles make us more mature? In the morning, standing in front of your grave, we seem to hear the footsteps of history beating, the body falling, the soul immortal, a tomb carved with a glorious life, bullets flying and pigeon whistle ringing.