With the blue skies above me a lifetime ago,
the trees that turn a nuclear green
drift by without whispering a word,
and blind faces covering the yellow
distortion of the sun sit silent,
offering hope, but never condolence.
While
surrounds me, trying to enshroud me,
but a lifetime of trees and skies keep driftin’ by…
Would you resound of the silence?
Will you sing of universal sorrow?
A million lifetimes ago,
when souls were still being born I could see the red
eyes of the maker,
the master behind the world's ill-done society of present
souls opinions that he wished to make himself...
To spare his own creation from
the pain restoring back to each and every wrongdoer.
Would you preach of fires burning?
Will you save the last flickering hope within?
