A wind arose, of such a force, we'd scatter,
Had blood not pulsed, we'd crumble, shatter.
This chilling breeze, this wandering plight, this sleep's embrace,
Had we but stayed within our city's space, we'd find our place.
We bore the blame, a weight we chose to bear,
Else, in this city, whose heads would despair?
We hid the wounds that scarred the heart and soul,
Else, how many faces would have lost their control?
Our hearts would not have yearned for peace so deep,
Had grace been ours, and we had learned to leap.
|
