From slow sleep above
hear they commotion below,
It is yet again
yet again they well know
what comes now, what comes next
and how things fall apart,
Fall apart do all things
when two hearts love depart.
And the mothers and fathers
of lost sons and of daughters,
Lost to none if no others
than their very own brothers,
Sisters and all, be their sisters apart
torn by oceans and seas and by seas
torn apart made of pain and of anguish,
Red the color of life,
Now all that is left is to perish
and embrace the pale strife.
So go on now fair children
whose hair is yet to turn gray,
Flee the daily mind’s dulling
by the fever of hate
between mothers and fathers
of lost sons and of daughters
whose day’s sun still shines
though it shines shades of gray.
