The sun had set, the skies were red.
Forlorn, upon a little hill.
The world, shook, under them.
Black winged birds, passed overhead.
And my thoughts fled far away
My eyes saw no more.
Casting off at last, all care and fear
As it winged away, my mind fell away
I heard voices, crying, astray
In some, forgotten world, far away
And down they swept, like in a dream
Lifted up, borne far away
Out of the darkness, and fire
Sometimes, hope is born
When all is forlorn.