Breaking the ties to your land Roots are rotting in the sand Sons are burning in front of gates. You walk out to a new fate. Trades will always recoup the hopes of fallen souls hiding, sharing some rancid soup
Out in the day you would only pray to see a spark in your children’s eyes. Stare at the foam drawing some forms Trying to find some solution. No cries no absolution Just slaves in a dead end.
Sigh were lost in the moonlight. Faint whispers drifting in the wind. foreseeing some shades of hope thru waves of broken dull seas. Ploding roughly thru the desert Your dreams are slowly fainting Blinded by storms of sand
Out in the day you would only pray to see a spark in your children’s eyes. Stare at the foam drawing some forms Trying to find some solution. No cries no absolution Just slaves in a dead end.