They say, "Weeping may endure for a night
But joy comes in the morning"
But them we forget those whose grief and despair
Are so colossal that tears and morning
Can't make them disappear
Neither does the morning change a thing
With the bright day a reminder
That like the previous tranquil night
Their aged little peace too may soon fade into thin air
Or tell me, whose lad would lay at our tripod stand
To hear us narrate the shameful moonlight story of how
And why we fell
And how we bribed our fall take us by the horn
Because some wanted is to follow a thread
Like taking poison soaked bread crumbs
To heal our hunger and thirst...
