However we would build Walls
He will shake the foundations
However we would hold the cup
It would be dashed from our hands
However we would cry into the Dawn
An echo would be the dry reply
However I would hold my brother
He would slip from my grasp
Whenever I kneel
I feel the stone step
Whenever I look to the mountain
I see only the Rowan tree.
Is hope somewhere hidden
In the blanket of belief?
JL Nov 6 2011
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