From the silence of the womb
To the silence of the tomb
The wounds remain fester and fester
The mother the green wood like the juniper
The philanthropist of the silent lurkers
The dagger the saber rasp the tropic lumbers
From the silence of the night
To the silence of the fallen knights
Their sighs and hiss remain a silent siren
Those in the swale those in pail make them wail
In silence in pain like a frightened quail
From the silence of the winter coasts
To the silence of the cemetery, their ghosts
Never sleep never like koala, but weep
Throughout the unending unrest of the beast