Against the red of rising sun,
A million stories, more
Whisper to bring the years undone,
Call back a dreadful underscore.
`
Talk to me, I’m listening,
Bring anger, tears and shame,
Let your toils rise up and sing,
Cry pain and shout your names.
`
Today our peace is piercing, loud;
Our comforts now abrasive
As fury builds and sorrow shrouds
For what you had to give.
`
These memories don’t belong to me
Yet I will make them mine
You are those I’ll never see
Yet long will thanks enshrine.
