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Even the angels recall.
The night of a thousand wails.
A million silences: silence of rattling roaches and blind bats.
That moment of bitter cries,
and another of wrathful death.
The night of starless skies
When the mournful winds would mock
With cold kisses upon sombre faces.
Even the devils recall.
The night of their gaudy feast.
When the sun lost to the night
And darkness ruled over light
With demons rejoicing in the night,
with demonic laughter and merry
To the souls made to flee
Blood made to drain and hearts made to wail.
For a sombre moment in the night
When the soldiers gave in the fight.
Even the earth recalls.
Of the mournful wails in the night.
Torching ashes: hell brought down in the night.
Even the sun recalls, of the dull dawning.
Scorching red to the sight of the burning world
The cry of angry babes, and the wail of hurting women.
Even the Lords recall.
The cries of praise less mourning’s
The days of still moments; of pain and deprived praises.
Even the time recalls
The moment of history made to pass
Change forced to come, and land made to curse.
