Small children in the dry vastness of desert destruction might seem to have lost everything but they still have tomorrows.
Where the whistle thorn tears the sky
We will wait by the dry river bend
And there we will cry
For the old land
The green land
Holding hand
Understand
We will listen for the high call
As the vultures search for death
You and I we are so small
Where the land has lost its breath
In the dry land
The dust land
Dying land
Understand
But we are alive to be here
Our eyes can see dream light
We can look now without fear
We have the gift of future sight
In our own land
Our future land
Living land
Understand
Poetry by Adrian Wood
Read 442 times
Written on 2012-02-09 at 02:25
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I Will Take You
I will take you to the road's endWhere the whistle thorn tears the sky
We will wait by the dry river bend
And there we will cry
For the old land
The green land
Holding hand
Understand
We will listen for the high call
As the vultures search for death
You and I we are so small
Where the land has lost its breath
In the dry land
The dust land
Dying land
Understand
But we are alive to be here
Our eyes can see dream light
We can look now without fear
We have the gift of future sight
In our own land
Our future land
Living land
Understand
Poetry by Adrian Wood
Read 442 times
Written on 2012-02-09 at 02:25
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
