The Silent Land
Across the sea, across the sands, beneath the desert sun,
Amid the bones, and dust, and ashes, amid the silent land,
There lives a man, who lived even long ago, when the world was begun,
Who raised the dead, and killed the living, with a cold white hand.
But now he lives in silence, where no sane man would walk,
In a house amid the sand and sun, with no food nor water nor sleep,
Where not a sound is uttered, where no one will ever talk,
Where none has laughed for centuries, and where no one will ever weep.
But some day in the future, the dice may be rolled, the fates may change,
And perhaps in the silent land men will walk, and people will speak,
Laughter will ring, and people will weep, and this will not be strange.
But this may happen in years, or centuries, or perhaps in only a week.