Window

Better times will come
With the shining, renewing newcomer sun
On us to shed some light
For in the land of confusion and angry stillness,
we're nothing more than neophytes
Reaching for the confidence once heard
but rarely worn or seen revived

"Either this or that", we're asked to believe
Watching moon after moon, late nights from the square window
On ancient hope of mercy and humanity
we're left to feed
though oppression still follows passion ridden

Through blood, belief
or the tone of our faces
a legion still piercing with hatred
as clothes and strips of flesh we still wear get stained
Eyelashes faded to the sunset

From the land of confusion, angry cries soar alone
Watching moon after moon, late nights
From the square window
Better times will come