Wednesday, 26 September 2007


In your valleys of silence,
I heard the poet’s sigh.
All his dreams are gone,
Lost, in the darkness of the night.

Across the streets laden with stones,
You can hear your mothers cry.
And through the cracks, the light is shown,
Like questions in your eyes.

Don’t sit still with your pistola,
Waiting for a change.
Look outside, see your ravaged lands,
Watch the blood come down with the rain.

Do you see history repeating itself?
And yes, it’s humour, but in vain.
Let the rain wash away who I am tonight,
Cold and noble, till I’m no one again.

And I waited for your hollow words,
The promise of the sun you said will shine.
Now let me wade through the silence,
Let me be one with the voices of the night.

No more! The innocence that is lost,
No more! The roots of yesterday.
No more! The solitude that you spoke of,
Through the rising moon, we’ll find our way.

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