A Moment Lost To Time

A Moment Lost to Time

The painter strikes his brush against
The canvas of the sky,
Orange appears against the black,
A dawn is drawing nigh.

The fields awake from lonesome sleep,
The meadows come alive,
The sea calms down his raging storm,
So goes his inner drive.

The trees awake as wind comes by,
Singing to the morn,
The mountains raise their voice on high;
A day has now been born.

As the sun meanders from
The east into the west,
An instant passes - lost to time,
A moment to be missed.

A raindrop fell upon a leaf
As he came through the door,
A tear of joy fell down her face,
Her love is home from war.

Another tear, of sorrow born
Falls down into a grave,
Her husband gave his life for them,
Who him they could not save.

Among the stones of all the dead,
There stands a man alone,
Looking on into the grave
Of this, his only son.

He’s left a flower, talked to the wind,
And now about to say,
How thankful he was for the life he lived,
How he wished for a son today.

Next to the field of the fallen friends
Is a building of miracles great,
Here, lives are saved, and babies are born,
In here there can be no hate.

A tiny boy has breathed his first,
He looks at his mother and smiles,
Another tear of joy is shed,
With a grin that spreads for miles.

The father was there, with a sigh of relief,
He thought it was finally done,
He soon would have to come to see
The fight had just begun.

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