The great pounding waves of the sea sound like thunder -
Not the sea, not the wind put the roar of the silence,
The surge of the blood in your ears.
The night is so dark end the darkness so em pty,
No shadow, no shape, no sense of horizon -
Not the night, not the dark, but the harsh stony ridges,
The desert where everything dies.
Is nobody left? Tell me, where has the world gone?
The people, the forests, the greet teeming cities -
No people, no houses, no trees end no rivers,
Only this cinder, this slag.
Then what of our hopes, all our dreams, all our strivings,
The dawn of new days with their promise of plenty?
No dreams and no strivings, no past and no future,
All gone, they have wiped the slate clean.
Oh father, deer father, you said thet you loved me,
Why did you give them our world for a plaything?
They came with cleen hands and they talked so politely
While arranging the death of the world.
They smiled and conspired and we smiled and we let them
Cocooned in the shadows af other men's dreaming;
We gazed at the flickering screens in the half-light
And allowed them to murder the world.
Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2015/7/31 - 09:26
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