A pall of darkness is upon us
veiling this moment of morning.
The first night of many last days,
that struck at our heart without warning.
Tonight the stars themselves are still
and silence ripped from our tongues.
Everything seems so inconsequential now
as we wait for word that never comes.
It’s as if our plow shares have turned against us
and truth itself now lies
beneath a pile of steel and stone
over which only Old Glory flies.
Clouds and grey rain may gather and burst
and mighty pillars fall
but when the thunder and lightening descend
the storm breaks upon us all.
veiling this moment of morning.
The first night of many last days,
that struck at our heart without warning.
Tonight the stars themselves are still
and silence ripped from our tongues.
Everything seems so inconsequential now
as we wait for word that never comes.
It’s as if our plow shares have turned against us
and truth itself now lies
beneath a pile of steel and stone
over which only Old Glory flies.
Clouds and grey rain may gather and burst
and mighty pillars fall
but when the thunder and lightening descend
the storm breaks upon us all.
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