The Tale below was carved one night
Upon the Stone, by candlelight
...most won't believe, but some just might
.........most won't believe, but some just might
Ill-fated crowd neath unchained cloud: the Silent City braves
against a sudden sullen flood, unleashing lashing waves
which wash the stony structures clean with radiance that laves.
Standing lonely in a crowd
Feelings severed, screaming loud;
Heart rejected, growing cold
Trusting ways begin to fold
Well, GI Jack is welcome back, he left his legs in 'Nam.
He wakes at night in sweat and fright, then drinks another dram.
Cold rains wet and weary... seeping through the sky,
Spectres pass ’long side me... bent, with collars high,
My visions are invisible and no one sees me cry.