how quickly doth our world fall from our hands
into the flames (how quickly doth the noise
fill up the silence of our tired hearts)
it's burning, and it never overjoys.

we've seen the weeping willows dance with song
and watched the fighting strangers play at peace-
ful thoughts (and hopes and dreams). in this night long,
the colors turned to black/white; and lives cease.

tomorrow, lights will once more fill our sky;
we'll stand in silence nothing left to say
and yet I cannot let the lion lie.
(don't you recall the conflagration day?)

and now, our grand old world, within its plight
will give our strange imaginations flight.