Clamours of hope
Like a lover hiding a bouquet, the new day hid a threat from us.
With a smiley face he approached, only did we know that he sort to steal the air from our lungs.
He gave the mortal race a different opinion of togetherness and set us apart in a state of restlessness.
Devoid of play and happiness, men retreat to their homes in mandatory consciousness.
It was not like this some dawn ago, How come your seers never foretold that a day will come when fear will grip the old, wealth and fortune forgone.
Put me in a place where I can understand.
Why do I have to face the battle behind a mask?
For I was born free and wild, but now I am meek and mild, careful not to cough around.
I hear these are resounding sounds of old wars.
Better fought with the disease than cold shots.
This wicked Dawn shall pass they say, yet they themselves wonder in dismay.
Hope is what the window to the soul looks to.
A new wake will arise where the sleeping earth will wake.
Merry and gay its dwellers will make.
For now and eternity our story will be great.